Shadow Master
by HeliusLoxias
Summary: Nothing was ever black or white when he was around, cameras or not. Eight months later, he's back, and blurring the lines once again. But there's a past for others to atone for, more important than any future they have in store for him.
1. A Unique Situation

Revamp of something I wrote over three years ago. Not entirely sure when its set, but probably the '05/'06 era, which was when I stopped watching, with potential characters from a little later on. Enjoy.

* * *

_The Shadow Master vs. The Deadman. Fights with supposed powers, and then with very real skill and aggression. For two and a half months, they battled, almost every week, in a variety of matches. Neither was willing to quit, or to give up, despite matches lost. There was always the chance that they'd win the next one, and, usually, that was what happened. Other Superstars were brought into the story, but they were only to keep things interesting. The fans were interested, and had no idea exactly what was going to happen in the end._

_The Line Between Black and White. He was shafted down the card, after losing the final match to Taker. They dropped the "mythical powers" from his bio, instead simply allowing his mortal powers to be on display. They flickered the lights when he walked through corridors, but, apart from that, he was like anyone else. Despite his good showing against The Undertaker, they had decided against boosting his career and giving him a title run, instead telling him he'd need to earn his way, and earn his fans. There were too many other Superstars in the division, and they all had fans who bought merchandise. The Shadow Master wasn't earning the company enough money and therefore wasn't worthy of a title shot just yet. Two and a half months fighting Taker hadn't been enough, and six weeks were spent trawling through the midcard, defeating all comers, but still not getting the fans he needed._

_The Shadow Master vs. The Rabid Wolverine. For three months, he'd gone to bed battered and bruised, but in the ring, he'd felt more alive than any other time he'd walked through the curtain. Against Taker, it had been all about the power, but with Benoit, it was all about the skill. Punches and heavy duty grapples didn't cut it. Submission holds, technical moves, they were what mattered. He hadn't trained to get here, only to pretend that he wasn't as good as he actually was. Fighting with Benoit changed that. Fighting with Benoit meant that there were more signs for the Shadow Master. It meant that more people paid attention to his matches. More people bought his merchandise. Suddenly, he was worth it. Suddenly, it looked like he actually belonged in the WWE, with a title around his waist. If three months could really be considered as suddenly. He lost, then won, once, then lost a hell of a lot more. It was too easy, too convenient, to have them facing each other. A growth of skills, for the both of them, and the fans enjoyed it, so why not? Somehow, just by fighting each other, they started to rise up the rankings._

_The Shadow Master and the Royal Rumble. He drew number thirteen, after an unscripted chat with Candice that had the rumour mills running for months to follow. Neither of them had realised that the cameras were rolling, and instead had just been joking around. It was only the third time they'd met, and their shortest meeting, but it was enough. Enough to show everyone that the Shadow Master could actually be human. He wasn't playing up some gimmick, and it was because of that one thing that the fans reacted the way they did. Suddenly, Candice Michelle was bringing out the soft side of one of the few men in the industry who walked in the grey area when he was in the ring, and even when he wasn't. Sometimes the bad guy, sometimes the good, sometimes the guy who flirted with both. It was because of that flirtation that he managed to make it to the final three inside the ring._

_The Shadow Master and The Animal. After the Rumble, recently dethroned champ Batista tried to tear his way through the roster to earn the title shot at Wrestlemania. Unfortunately, for him, when he hit the Shadow Master, he hit a brick wall. At No Way Out, they were in a triple threat match with Benoit to decide who would face the champ at Wrestlemania, though who it would be remained in question, as Mysterio was battling him that very night. Benoit pulled off the victory, forcing Batista to tap, and giving the Shadow Master a single word that he could use, indefinitely, to describe the Animal: weak. It sent Batista into a frenzy. He'd tapped out, and he'd hated himself for it, but now he had someone taunting him with the fact every single second of every single day. At Wrestlemania, both names secured a match, together, and, thanks to the matches with Benoit, he was allowed to show off. Power loses when your opponent is just as powerful, and twice as skilled. The Shadow Master won the match, and had the pleasure of reminding the Animal for as long as he could that he'd just won. Beating the former champ catapulted him right up to the top of the pile. From up there, the ground looked very far away, and there were only two, maybe three people, who were sharing that kind of height with him._

_Into the Shadow Realm. He enjoyed life at the top, but he didn't abuse it. He didn't challenge for the title straight away. He didn't stake his claim at Judgement Day, but he did rub salt in the wounds when the Animal got his ass kicked, once again, by the champ. The man wearing the gold was getting good at that. He did have a contribution at Judgement Day, though. All titles were on the line, as usual, but it all started with a Diva match, which changed... well, it changed everything. Melina was fighting Ashley, and Ashley looked set to win. Suddenly, Mercury and Nitro were down in the ring, knocking out the ref. Ashley was backed into a corner, but suddenly... suddenly Melina had a change of heart, and tried to call off the attack. The crowd applauded, and Ashley bailed out of the ring, leaving Melina to try and calm down 'her boys'. But the boys had a different idea. They started yelling at her, shoving her, and they looked about to hit her. About to hit her, and then the lights went out. When they came back on, Mercury and Nitro were knocked out in the middle of the ring, and the Shadow Master was standing on the stage, arms folded across his chest. Later that night, Mercury and Nitro defended their titles against London and Kendrick, and, yet again, the Shadow Master interfered, attacking the champs after they knocked out the ref, again. It helped them secure the titles, and, after that, London and Kendrick were rarely seen from the Shadow Master's side, earning themselves the title of the Shadow Minions._

_The Shadow Master and the Legend Killer. At Summerslam, the Shadow Master challenged for the title, but found the chance slip through his grasp at the final second. This loss was not the first, and was not the last he received at the hands of Randy Orton, the reigning champ. The loss only encouraged him, though, and he battled through opponents, successfully defending his claim as the first and only true contender to the title. He proved his ability to see the whole board, though, continuing to assist London and Kendrick, as they began to follow the way he lived and operated, walking the line in the same way he did. It was almost too easy for them to win, and retain their titles. Together, they walked into No Mercy at the top of their game. For the past three weeks, the Shadow Master had faced the Legend Killer in a series of matches, and, each time, he'd been the only one left standing at the end of the night, and No Mercy was no different. At the end of the night, the Shadow Master stood tall in the middle of the ring, London and Kendrick raising his arms into the air, with the title clasped firmly around his waist. It was the beginning of a new era._

_The Shadow Ministry. Now that he was holding the Heavyweight Title, he and London and Kendrick were the most powerful faction on Smackdown!. From then on, they were referred to as the Shadow Ministry, both in jest and in all seriousness. There was no change in their attitudes, or their fighting styles, and they were seemingly unstoppable. The Shadow Minions were the first selected by their Master to join the Survivor Series team, battling against RAW's team for brand supremacy. No matter who he fought in the ring, or what kind of match it was, the Shadow Master remained champion, leaving many wondering who might have the power and the ability to stop him. Some old names appeared again, but none were successful, Batista taking his shot at the Rumble and falling within minutes. It meant that there was time for another quick chat with Candice, but it was different this time._

_The Shadow Master and his Queen. By Survivor Series, it was impossible not to see that there was certainly something going on between the Shadow Master and Melina, but there was certainly nothing definite until the Rumble, when, following his match, she joined him in the ring and kissed him. That particular storyline was the worst kept secret in the WWE at the time, all thanks to a few "accidental" sightings of the two of them together, in the background of other people's air time. Quickly, Melina adopted the same code as the rest of the Shadow Ministry, and, under the Shadow Master's tutelage, became a formidable opponent, making No Way Out a night of victories for the Ministry. The Shadow Minions found themselves having to vie for time with the newly dubbed Shadow Queen, but they didn't falter in the ring, and never doubted their mentor and leader. The only possible upset for the dominating faction was the possibility that Melina may be traded to RAW, in order to compete for the Women's Title, but the draft was so far away, and it was unlikely that the Smackdown! GM would want to break up the team when they were earning the WWE so much money._

_The Fall of The Shadow Master. Batista qualified for the title match at Wrestlemania, but lost the preview match, two weeks before, and therefore lost the chance to make the stipulation. When the Shadow Master chose an Ultimate Submissions match, it seemed obvious that he would walk out of Wrestlemania with his title still around his waist, and his Ministry intact, but that was not to be. Melina won her challenge against reigning Women's Champion, Mickie James, and was immediately transferred to RAW; London and Kendrick lost their titles to Mercury and Nitro; and as for the Shadow Master himself... he found that Batista had picked up a few things in their previous matches, amongst them a few submission holds. Despite his best efforts, the scores were level in the final minutes of their match, both men scrambling to lock something in, and force the other to tap out. In the final moments, the Shadow Master saw his chance, forcing Batista onto his back with a Power Bomb, then locking in the Shadow's Embrace, his knee pushing heavily against the Animal's chest and diaphragm, while his arms locked around the man's neck and arm, the Shadow Master twisting his body in order to fully secure the headlock. Batista tapped, with two seconds remaining, and thus the Shadow Master retained his title. Before he could even lay eyes on the belt, though, he was under attack; former champion Randy Orton appearing in the ring, armed with a chair, Mercury and Nitro in tow. In the onslaught that followed, the Shadow Master felt something go horribly wrong, something that would end his career in the WWE, cost him the title, and, most importantly, cost him revenge and retribution._

"This reads like a Wikipedia page. Actually, it's probably less descriptive than a Wikipedia page."

Tobias dropped the sheets back down onto the table, eyes flickering to the other people sitting in the room, then finding the text again, rereading what he already knew. Why they had given them to him in the first place, he did not know, but there was sure to be a point to it all. Unfortunately, no one seemed to want to reveal that just yet, instead just watching him read. They'd scheduled this meeting, and now they were wasting away the time remaining by staring at him, whispering to each other when they thought he might not hear them, scribbling notes on the sheets of paper in front of them, even when he hadn't said a single word.

"It's just a rough draft," Stephanie said, softly, as if he had been offending her, though, he would admit that it had probably sounded like a shot rather than a statement. Those thoughts were quickly shifted, though, when he realised exactly what she'd said. A rough draft? Why the hell would they want to write a rough draft on the history of the Shadow Master?

"A rough draft for what?"

Stephanie shared a look with her father, Vince, but his expression was unreadable. Desperately, Tobias turned to Caleb, the only other person in the room, but he remained just as silent. They had started all of this, and had approached him, and now they wanted to remain silent. He could feel the fury growing, and the impatience, but he'd dealt with all of this before.

"How's your shoulder, Toby?" Vince grumbled, though his question did very little to ease the growing tension in the room.

"Healed, and stronger than it used to be."

"The surgery was a success?"

"Very. I cut two months off the recovery time, too."

"How long was it, in total?"

"Seven months."

Another moment of silence, while notes were made, but, for whatever reason, Tobias was sure that they were getting closer to the point. Who knew, maybe Vince would hurry up and tell him what was going on.

"We want to release a DVD," Stephanie finally announced, "about you. The Shadow Master. We need you to supply commentary, obviously, but we also need all the paper work signed."

"Why would you want to release a DVD about someone who hasn't been seen in association with the WWE for eight months?"

Another shared look. It wasn't entirely uncommon for these kinds of DVDs to be released, what with the amount that Tobias had achieved in such a short space of time, but there was something more to this, and they all knew that. These three were hiding something, and he was just going to have to wait for them to be secure enough to tell him. It may take seconds, or hours, or, hell, knowing Vince and Stephanie, it may take a few weeks.

"Three polls conducted since your final match show that you are still someone the fans remember," Caleb said, at last actually speaking up, though his eyes were on the laptop screen in front of him. "Two months after Wrestlemania, you were one of seven names supplied with the question: _'Which former champion would you like to see return to the WWE?'_ You received 62% of the vote. At No Mercy, we asked: _'Out of all champions to win a title at No Mercy, which was your favourite?'_ Once again, you led in votes. Finally, last week, we asked: _'Who was your favourite champion of the last 12 months?'_. You won. People remember you, and, considering that there are still a few Shadow Master signs at each Smackdown! show and Pay Per View, I get the feeling they wouldn't have an issue with seeing you again. Even better if you had a title around your waist."

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. What else were they playing at? Hell, why were they even including his name in the polls? His suspicion was growing, to the point where he was considering leaving the meeting. They'd stabbed him in the back before, in a meeting rather similar to this one, and their silence wasn't convincing him that this was going to be any different. Hell, if he walked out with even a third of what he should have been receiving in royalties, it would be a miracle.

"You're in a rather unique situation, Mr. Cale. You're one of the few champions in WWE history who successfully defended his title at Wrestlemania. You're one of the few Superstars who has never actually been defeated for their title. And, most importantly, your final match was at Wrestlemania. All together, you're very unique, and, therefore, very memorable."

Vince's words did little to appease Tobias, since the Chairman was the reason he'd left in that particular situation, but getting angry now wouldn't do anything to help him. There was something more to this, that much he knew, and only patience would reveal exactly what that was. Money, certainly, but he was pretty sure that he hadn't heard the end of their offer just yet. So far, everything could have been discussed through emails, or over the phone, so asking him to come in for the meeting meant that there was more. Whether or not he wanted to hear it, though, remained to be seen.

"Have you kept in shape, Tobias?"

He may have been offended by the question, but, yet again, he refused to rise to the bait, fixing his eyes on Stephanie before letting out a sigh.

"To the best of my ability."

"Are you in fighting shape?" Caleb jumped in, a second later, still not looking up from the screen in front of him, but his fingers had ceased their movements on the keys, if only for a moment.

"I haven't been in a ring, or a fight, since Wrestlemania, so I don't know."

Silence, again. Vince, Stephanie and Caleb shared a look, before the latter went back to whatever it was he was working on. Obviously, that wasn't the answer that they'd been hoping for, but at least it was an honest one. Why would they care if he was in fighting shape? Well, no, there was a simple answer to that. No doubt they thought that he'd been contacted by TNA, in which case they'd be right, but he wasn't going to sign up with them. Somehow, no matter how talented you were, you never remained champion for long. Might have had something to do with one of the owners being a Superstar, or whatever they called themselves.

"How long do you think it would take for him to be up to standard?"

"Might take too long. Especially since..."

He'd been so lost in thought that he didn't quite pick up on what they were saying until Stephanie paused. Getting him back up to standard? What the hell was that all about? Were they still under the assumption that he was jumping ship? No, that didn't quite work. In that case... no. That was equally ridiculous.

"What's going on? Why are you so interested in my physical fitness? More importantly, why is there a time limit involved?"

Caleb didn't say a word; in fact, he pulled on a pair of headphones, eyes still trained on the screen, though now his fingers were motionless. Obviously, this was out of his department, so he didn't need to have any further input. Vince and Stephanie shared yet another look, silently arguing with each other, and, finally, Vince bit the bullet.

"We were hoping to release the DVD in order to help hype your return to the WWE at Wrestlemania."

Tobias couldn't help but he stunned, but kept his face blank, almost bored. His return to the WWE? At Wrestlemania? Were they insane? Very few people made a debut at a PPV, and no one made them at Wrestlemania. It was reserved for people who could really sell the merchandise, not to mention Superstars who actually deserved to get that kind of prestigious air time. Even if he wouldn't be debuting, it still seemed absolutely ridiculous.

"Why?"

Not the reaction they'd been expecting, and this time it was the McMahon's turn to look a little surprised, but they recovered a lot faster than he had.

"I don't say this very often, so I'm not going to repeat it. I don't like the way we parted company, and I regret that it occurred. Stephanie approached me on behalf of the writing team, when they hit a bit of a road block. As an exercise, Stephanie had them write any storyline they wanted. Essentially, they were allowed to do what every fanfiction and wrestling roleplayer does every day: resurrect careers and Superstars and go to town. Instead of bringing Eddie Guerrero back to life, or reforming Evolution, or, hell, turning people gay, they chose to write you back into the WWE, starting with Wrestlemania."

Certainly not what he'd been expecting. He got his bearings even faster than last time, unfolding his arms and leaning forward against the table.

"As, what? A whipping boy?"

"Try the winner of the Money In The Bank ladder match."

Money In The Bank. That would explain why they'd need him in top shape. The simplest of matches could lead to serious injury, but this kind of match could end careers, and that was with people who hadn't taken a year off. To win the match, though, took twice as much, and a hell of a lot more care in the match itself. An accidental injury would be the end, and then everything would go to hell.

"Winner? That's a stretch. What, am I just gonna run in there as a late entrant, scale a ladder and grab the case?"

Stephanie almost laughed, but Vince was far from amused.

"You're going to enter the match, fair and square, and you're going to win the match, fair and square. How does that sound?"

"Too good to be true. What's the catch?"

"Who says there has to be a catch?"

"Don't answer that."

Stephanie cut him off before Tobias could answer, and it only took Vince a few minutes to work out exactly why. They'd screwed him over in the past, and he certainly wasn't going to trust them to play fair in what might be his return. Unsurprisingly, he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them, and therefore wasn't going to sign anything until he knew the full deal.

"What's the long term plan? I screw someone out of their title, then drop it a few weeks later, and go back to living in the midcard so you can fire me the second I get injured?"

"You seriously think that our creative team were given the option to do whatever the hell they wanted, and decided on some piece of crap storyline like that? Give them some credit, Cale."

"Credit where it's deserved, Mr. McMahon."

"Writers need muses, Mr. Cale."

They stared each other down, then Vince laughed, surprising everyone at the table, except Caleb, who was still absorbed in his computer, and whatever it was he was watching. Tobias couldn't argue with what he was being told, though. He'd glanced at RAW and Smackdown! infrequently throughout the last year, and there was a certain lack of spark in what he was seeing. It was the same old faces, the same old champions. In short, everything was stale and overused.

"That they do, Mr. McMahon. That they do. So what do the writers see in my future, if not a three week title run?"

"They didn't get far enough into the storyline to decide when you were going to win the title," Stephanie answered, after a quick glance at her father. "You were still holding the briefcase when I went back to see what they'd come up with the next day. At that point, they'd written eight weeks worth of storyline."

"And which Shadow Master was I, exactly? The one with powers to rival the Undertaker? Brute force with no technical substance?"

"They were writing the same Shadow Master you were when you left. Is that a problem?"

"It's better than what I expected, to be honest."

That earned him yet another smile. The tension that had been so evident in the room before had completely dissipated, to the point where things were almost warm. Of course, he knew better than to get too comfortable. That would be when the other shoe dropped, and they revealed exactly what they had planned for him, regardless of how much it humiliated him, or made him look incredibly idiotic.

"You're going to start training. We would send you to OVW, but too many people will recognise you, so we'd rather do it in private. That means we'll need a copy of your schedule, so that we can work around it."

"I haven't agreed to this yet."

"But you will. This is an offer that no one would refuse."

He picked up on something in her voice, something she'd been hoping to hide with the pace of her words. Desperation. Why would they be desperate, though? Sure, the writing team had hit a wall, and in their free write had come up with a storyline that involved his return to the ring, but there was no reason for them to really need it. They made enough money off their current rosters; he wasn't going to make that much of a difference. Unless...

"You already started hyping me, didn't you? Throwing in a line, here and there? How long has it been going on for?"

"The week before Cyber Sunday. Cena made a comment, about everything being black and white."

"The fans started chanting 'shades of grey'," Vince cut in, not exactly looking all that pleased with the outcome. "Drowned out the opposing Cena chants, too."

"Since then, we've thrown in several comments, here and there. Some, the fans pick up on. Some, they don't. Either way, they're pretty ready for you. If you choose to come back, that is."

He was about to answer when something else clicked into place. Everything that they were saying was layered, in true administrative fashion, and, whether intentional or not, they were still trying to keep things from him.

"Cena's on RAW. Why are you... RAW? You want me to be on RAW?"

Caleb had finally removed the headphones from his ears, just in time to hear the final comment, and his face immediately turned guilty. Was that the final secret? He'd covered most of the other potential trips that they might have laid in front of him, but that didn't mean that there weren't any others. Still, though, you didn't show that amount of guilt from something small.

"The writers..." Stephanie began, looking to the two other men for support before continuing, "wanted, ideally, to put everything back the way it was before you left. To do that, you needed to be on the same show as the former Ministry members. Melina's been there since she won the title, Mercury and Nitro went with her. London and Kendrick are there, Orton's even made the shift over. The only person from your old feuds who isn't there is Dave. You wouldn't really be able to seek revenge on the ones who injured you if they were on a separate brand, would you?"


	2. Back Into Shape

"Get up, Toby. Can't win a match lying on your back."

He sucked in a breath, trying desperately to get some oxygen to his screaming muscles and lungs. Getting to his feet was his only priority right then, but he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Just a winding, though. He'd recover, and quickly. He just needed a second.

"Cale, get up! Come on!"

A surge of fresh air found its way to his lungs, and Tobias rolled to his feet a moment later, arms raised defensively as he locked eyes with his opponent again. Or, rather, his trainer.

"You need to learn to recover a lot faster, Toby."

"It's my first day, Paul. I'll pick it up."

"You've only got three months. I'm not going easy on you."

"Not asking you to. Just..."

"Making excuses."

Paul rushed forward again, and Tobias was forced to duck under the extended forearm, attempting to sweep the leg out from under the other man, but Paul was already too far away. When he hit the ropes and rebounded back, Tobias had less than a second to prepare himself, grabbing Paul's arm and dragging the man over his shoulder. Paul hit the mat hard, but he didn't need any time to recover, instead climbing to his feet less than a second after he went down. Once again, Tobias was on the defensive, struggling slightly to keep up with the pace of the assault, not to mention trying desperately to remember exactly how to perform each grapple correctly. But for everything that he came up with, Paul had a counter attack, and Tobias was pretty sure he spent more time on his back than he did on his feet.

After a Spinebuster, Tobias found himself unable to rise yet again, but this time there was an extended arm above him, and he grasped Paul's hand, using the other man's strength as much as he own to get to his feet. Not for the first time that day, he was regretting ever signing that time sensitive contract. But he was here now, and tomorrow would be better... hopefully.

"Come on, Toby, you look like you need a break. We'll grab something to drink, then hit the gym."

He groaned, but Paul just laughed, leading the way out of the ring, and into the house. Training outside in the middle of January was not exactly the most enjoyable of experiences, thanks to the weather, but it meant that he was jumping in the deep end. Might not get him in up to standard faster, but it would certainly toughen him up to take the hits, even if he might not be able to fight back so convincingly.

It was only when they were in the kitchen that Tobias realised exactly how much time they'd spent outside. No wonder he felt like shit; they'd been training for over three hours, but he still wasn't feeling any better about his performance. In time gone by, he would have been able to keep going even longer, not to mention putting up a better fight. Paul mentioned something about having a shower and disappeared upstairs, leaving Tobias to find himself something to drink, and an apple to snack on while he struggled to catch his breath again. The gym would be a return to what he knew and was comfortable with, but it was more the kindness of Paul's heart than anything else that had them moving there. Tobias needed to get better in the ring, and they both knew it.

It felt like he'd been staying at the house a lot longer than just the past three days. The meeting with Vince, Stephanie and Caleb had been a week ago, and the next day he'd gone to the gym that had employed him as a personal trainer since his dismissal and had quit. He'd spent the following three hours packing up everything in his small apartment before jumping on a plane to Connecticut, and moving in with Paul, of all people, who was taking a break from his alter ego, after another injury scare with his quad. They really weren't going to take chances with someone who had such a large fan base, especially since that fan base was more than willing to part with their money each and every week for anything that had his name or likeness on it.

They should have started training the second he arrived, but someone, most likely Caleb, had commandeering his first two days in order to record some interviews and finish up the DVD they were releasing. Tobias had to admit that it looked rather good, despite the fact that they glossed over everything that had happened after that fateful Wrestlemania. Then again, it was hardly a fresh start if he forced them to apologise for what they'd done in a DVD released under their own name. Not that it wasn't tempting, of course.

"Are you sure that eating was a good idea, Toby?"

Paul had returned, his hair still dripping from the shower, but with fresh clothes, rather than his usual ring attire. For whatever reason, he'd deemed it necessary for them to be wearing nothing more than their usual ring clothes, despite the distinct chill. It was a good thing that Tobias had kept his old pair, though he would need a fresh pair before he actually wrestled in front of a camera. They hadn't exactly been a priority, and, because of that, they'd become a little threadbare. It was more than Paul had been wearing, though.

"Just an apple. Besides, I figure you're going to keep me in the ring for a few hours, so I thought I'd need some energy."

Paul narrowed his eyes for a moment, then he grinned, glancing quickly around the kitchen and adjoining rooms before a fresh idea seemed to strike him. Tobias was at the mercy of whatever Paul decided to do, since his training and readiness was entirely in the other man's hands now, and the man didn't really seem like someone to set up a routine.

"Maybe you do need a bit of a break, if only to get some blood back to your fingers. When was the last time you watched an episode of RAW, or Smackdown!, for that matter?"

Tobias raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, not entirely sure he wanted to be honest at that moment. Then again, though, sure Paul would understand him not wanting to watch any wrestling after the way he'd been treated by the WWE while injured. Actually, no, Paul had always remained employed despite injury.

"To be honest, I don't think I ever saw a full episode, employed by the WWE or not. Before, there was always something else to watch. During, I rarely had the time. After... well, you can understand that, I hope."

"I get it, yeah. It means that you don't know what's changed since you left though."

"No, I don't. Is that a problem?"

Paul smirked, and Tobias immediately regretted his question. Over a much heartier lunch than an apple and water, Paul led him through the events that had happened in the WWE since his departure, after sending off an email to someone, requesting tapes of every week's show, for both Smackdown! and RAW. The idea of spending hours and hours watching the tapes didn't exactly appeal to Tobias, but it was going to give him an excuse to sit down every once in a while.

Following lunch, they went down to the basement, which had been turned into a gym, if only a small one. Due to the limited space, each machine was designed to raise muscle mass, rather than simply acting as a cardiovascular exercise, or something to build stamina. It was clear that, if he hadn't felt sore enough after constantly being thrown onto his back, he was going to feel even sorer still once Paul was done with him, but it was necessary. It was all necessary. At his former place of employment – the gym – Tobias hadn't needed to look like an entrant to the Mr. Universe, and even though he'd tried to keep up his strength, he'd felt himself struggling during the fight with Paul earlier.

Unfortunately, though, it didn't get easier the next day. Or the day after that. Even the next week, he felt like he'd been hit by a train, and he was starting to look like it, too. Fresh bruises were beginning to appear, mostly on his back, but there were some forming on his arms and chest, thanks to Paul's suggestion that they start using the ropes and turnbuckles as part of their training. If possible, it seemed like he was getting worse, but that could be blamed on the weight training. Not that Paul was going to allow any form of excuses, that smug grin almost always on his face. Somewhere along the time, Tobias had given himself a mission of sorts; determined to knock that grin clean off, though that didn't exactly seem possible just yet.

More weeks fell off the calendar, and still Tobias struggled, trying desperately to get back into shape, but still seemingly going backwards. Hell, the only thing he was even marginally successful in was watching the tapes and learning about the people he'd soon be facing off against, and that wasn't exactly something to be proud of. It put him on par with the fans, and, while he certainly wouldn't look down his nose at them, it didn't do anything to promote his qualifications for the job he was undertaking. Quitting wasn't an option, though, and Tobias simply kept telling himself that next time, the next day, next week, he'd feel better, fight better.

The day before the Royal Rumble, his DVD was released, and Paul decided to celebrate by waking him up at six in the morning for a double session in the ring outside. There was still snow on the ground, and some on the ring itself that they were forced to clean before they started. The icy texture of the ring's mat made every fall all that more painful, and, after the third time he found himself on his back, his resolve hardened, even as his back froze. The one improvement he had managed to make was his recovery time, no longer spending up to a minute lying on his back, and he was doubly fast with the ice and cold. Paul was still grinning, but that grin began to fade as he felt exactly how cold the ring mat was. By the time he'd hit the mat the eighth time, there wasn't even a trace of a smile on his face, replaced with surprise, mixed with amazement. If it weren't so freezing cold, Tobias might have taken time to wonder exactly why Paul was amazed, but every second was necessary now. In a televised match, there was a certain amount of scripting involved, which meant that everyone in the ring knew what was coming, and had time to prepare. Now, though, Paul could change his mind mid-attack, which meant that Tobias had to be constantly on the defensive. Or, rather, it would have. Now, though, he was on the offensive, for the first time in almost two months, not that it made him feel any more secure. In fact, he was probably more terrified of a counter attack now than he had been when he was playing defence.

It was the turning point. After that, the days were warmer, so there wasn't a constant fear of the ice, but Tobias was still able to hold his own, matching Paul rather than being overwhelmed by him. Paul had learnt from that especially cold day not to underestimate Tobias, but the battles were far more even now than they had been. Longer, too, but not as draining now that they weren't fighting the elements as well. His technique was growing more and more refined with each day, which meant that he wasn't putting unnecessary stress on his muscles, not that they'd really feel it now. The hours spent in the basement had hardened them to the point where they were almost completely numb, and almost three times stronger than they had been when he'd started. It didn't seem possible, but Tobias still hadn't reached his former strength, though it was unlikely that that particular hurdle would be mounted before he made his return to the WWE. It was a good thing he still had the muscle memory, otherwise he would have needed a hell of a lot more training than he was getting right now, though it could be argued that Paul could train up just about anyone if he really put his mind to it.

No Way Out came and went, though this time Tobias witnessed the event, having finally caught up with his viewing of the shows for the past several months, and, while he should have been interested with what he was seeing, it didn't mean a whole lot. No Way Out was a Smackdown! Pay Per View, so he wasn't going to gain very much from the three hours, but part of him did enjoy watching his old hunting ground, and seeing who held the power now. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to have the satisfaction of returning and showing Batista, the current champion, exactly who deserved to hold top spot. Winning the Money In The Bank would be enough, though. If they did decide to hold up that side of the deal. He'd have to be in shape for that to happen, though. His contract stated that he'd need to be found fit by the week before Wrestlemania, otherwise his return would be delayed, possibly indefinitely. Maybe Stephanie was right. Maybe there just wasn't enough time, even though he was improving in leaps and bounds now.

"Why did you decide to come back?"

Despite the fact that they'd been training together, and living together, for nearly three months, he and Paul hadn't really had that many conversations, at least not about their personal lives. In the beginning, they hadn't really had the time to, since Tobias had been sleeping when he wasn't training, but after that, they'd simply fallen into the habit of appreciating the silence. Still, though, he wasn't going to ignore the question, regardless of where it may lead.

"They presented me with an offer that I couldn't find any immediate fault with."

"An offer you couldn't refuse?"

Tobias raised an eyebrow, not entirely impressed, but he couldn't help but return Paul's grin before going back to the small meal in front of him.

"I could have refused it, but where would it have gotten me? I liked working with the WWE, apart from the obvious issues towards the end of my career, so why not come back?"

"You're not a little suspicious that they're just bringing you back to appease the fans, after which you'll be someone's whipping boy for six months then drop off the face of the earth?"

Unfortunately, Paul was reciting nearly every thought that had gone through Tobias' head since he'd agreed to the terms of the contract, and if someone else could see it all as clear as day, what were the chances that he was wrong with his original thoughts?

"They're giving me the briefcase. I doubt that means they'll be shafting me. Besides, isn't this all the outcome of a writer's fantasy script?"

"Scripts can be changed; you know that as well as anyone. Why are you putting faith in the people who already stabbed you in the back?"

He didn't know how to answer that, and so stayed silent, pushing a piece of chicken around on his plate for a moment before actually eating it. Every word that came out of Paul's mouth made absolute sense, and yet, at the same time, he knew he wasn't going to walk away. Was it the money that appealed to him? Highly possible. The fans? Equally as likely. Had he been a betting man, though, Tobias would have put all his money on the idea that he wanted to redeem himself, and actually do everything right this time. No injuries, no excuse to be let go despite still being a champion.

"I'm not putting any faith in them. The only explanation I can give you is that I know they felt guilty about the decision made. I was scheduled to be out of action for a year after what happened to my shoulder, which made me a liability, so I was released from my contractual obligations. Business wise, it was the right thing to do, but even so, your wife didn't appear to be all that happy about it during our meeting. People who only want to use you don't tend to look like they're grovelling when they ask you to come back."

Paul remained silent for a moment, then laughed softly under his breath, washing down the remains of his dinner with his beer before rising form the table.

"My wife doesn't grovel, Cale. And neither does her father."

As Wrestlemania grew closer and closer, they stopped working on generalist moves, since Tobias seemed to be excelling in that particular area, and began to focus on specialty moves, in particular his two finishers. Unlike what had happened with some former members of the WWE, Tobias' finishers hadn't been passed on to someone else and renamed, and therefore were his to own once again, though it had been a long time since he'd even tried to perform either, thanks to his shoulder, which meant that the training sessions weren't as fruitful as they had been in previous weeks. Paul was a patient sparring partner, though, and didn't move a muscle while Tobias tried to remember exactly how he locked in the awkward head lock, almost as if he was going for a Rock Bottom, but tighter, grasping one forearm with the hand from the other to make sure his grip wasn't broken.

Standing, this was an easy feat, but when they were trying to work out the Shadow's Embrace, Paul started wearing a padded vest to protect himself from the knee that was supposed to be forcing the air out of him. Too often, Tobias used too much force and momentum, and in the end managed to wind Paul with the knee before he'd managed to lock his arms in place around the man's head and arm, forcing him back down onto his back so fast he had no idea why he wasn't sitting up anymore, apart from the sharp pain. The longer they practiced, though, the easier it became, and before long Tobias could lock in the Shadow's Embrace without nearly breaking Paul's ribs, and he could actually pull off what was now referred to as the Requiem of Shadows without endangering either of their lives and safety. Due to the desire for the initial hold to look like an actual submission manoeuvre in its own right, Tobias was actually standing further around his opponent's body than one would for a Rock Bottom, to the point where one of his legs was actually behind the legs of the opponent. When he converted to a suplex of sorts, he brought that leg back in front of the opponent, so that their bodies were closer together and he wouldn't have to struggle so much to lift them, but the hold was not released until the final moment, since there was a very real danger of damage to the neck and shoulder. No wonder Paul hadn't been all that thrilled when he found out how long it had been since Tobias had last performed the attack.

Two weeks before Wrestlemania, they started playing with the ladders. Suddenly, the falls were that much more painful, and that much more serious. The first time Paul pushed him off the top of the ladder, he very nearly missed the mat, only just managing to avoid crashing down onto the grass, though that might have hurt less. The second time, he did miss the mat, and he most certainly had the wind knocked out of him this time. He was beaten with the ladder, thrown from it, sandwiched between it; anything and everything that might happen in the Money In The Bank match. Every weapon that might appear in the match slowly found its way into the ring, until they were duelling with weapons alone: chair against ladder, kendo stick against baseball bat, trash can against sledgehammer. Tobias hadn't forgotten how to take the hits, though, whenever possible making sure that there was something between himself and the object about to connect with his head. Thankfully, they had an ice machine somewhere within the house, meaning that he wouldn't be covered in bruises, if and when he did walk into the ring at Wrestlemania.


	3. Final Verdict

"So, what's the verdict?"

Vince and Stephanie had called himself and Paul to the WWE headquarters, for what Tobias assumed was a final check up, at the very last moment before they had to find a replacement for him. Strangely, though, there was no doctor in the room with them; no one with actual qualifications to give their opinion on the matter. Almost weekly he'd had his blood tested, and fortnightly a doctor had paid a visit to the house, just to make sure that he was actually as fit as he thought himself to be. So far, everything had gone as well as it could have, but that didn't mean that there wasn't something they weren't telling him. After all, the storyline could be altered, so that he made his return later in the year, when he truly was up to scratch.

Already, he was admitting defeat, and no one had said a word yet, waiting instead for all the documentation, as well as a round of coffees. If they were trying to make him feel more comfortable, they were failing, miserably.

"Well, this is taking longer than it should. Let's just get started then, shall we?"

When there were no complaints, Vince continued, smiling, hell, beaming at everyone seated around the table. The man was even more terrifying when he was happy than when he was angry, which was saying something, really.

"Paul's been giving us regular updates on your progress. He seems reasonably confident in his training abilities, and in your progress, which means we only really need to wait and see what the medical tests say before we clear you to compete next weekend. I hear he really put you through your paces over the past three and a bit months."

"He certainly taught me how to fall."

Vince laughed, while Stephanie and Paul shared a smirk, though none of their actions made him feel any less anxious. They were all good actors, on and off screen, which meant that there was no issue with play acting in order to lessen the blow of telling him he wasn't even close to being ready enough to get in the ring.

"Looks like you've bulked up a fair amount, too," Stephanie commented, almost admiringly, ignoring the looks she received from both her husband and her father.

"It's not like I had a choice, really. I needed all the help I could get to lift that hulking mass off the ground."

It took Paul a second to realise that he was being insulted, but he just laughed again, as he always seemed to. Tobias had never quite understood exactly why Paul had put up with him for so long, or why he had always been so light hearted about everything, but it seemed that there was nothing that could be done to make him angry. A good thing, really.

"Now, Mr. Cale, it's probably about time we talked about how realistic the idea of your return at Wrestlemania is."

Here it was. The change of plans. The dismissal. Hell, he hadn't honoured his contract, so they could technically just not renew it again, and he'd be in exactly the same situation he had been in the previous year. Shouldn't exactly have come as a surprise, though.

"Right now... well, assuming that all the medical tests are fine, and our physiotherapist doesn't find any faults in that shoulder of yours, I see no reason why you can't join in on the Wrestlemania fun. If you can last three to six hours in a ring with Paul every day for fifteen weeks, then I see no reason why you can't fight in the Money In The Bank match, and then join the RAW roster. We'll need to focus on the scripts, though, but you won't have to worry about that next Sunday. From what I remember, the writers intended for you to bump into Candice."

"Same old same old then."

It wasn't exactly a surprise, but he didn't care. Then again, how was he going to have a chat with Candice as he had in the past when he hadn't seen her in, well, almost exactly a year? If it was unscripted, which would be the case, no doubt, then it would probably turn into something incredibly awkward. Great way to torture him, but he couldn't have everything the way he wanted it to be.

"Well, it is what the writers wanted. It's what the fans wanted, too. Everyone enjoyed those little chats, more than some of the matches, unfortunately."

He didn't really believe that, but Vince wasn't the kind of person to make things up just to make other people feel better. Or, rather, he wasn't likely to do it with someone he didn't really need to bend over backwards to please. Before Tobias could question the statement aloud, though, there was a knock on the door, and one of the secretaries walked in, ignoring everyone as she handed Vince a file. No words passed between them that anyone else could hear, and a moment later she left, eyes fixed on the door. Well trained girl, but, then again, she'd probably been working here for a while, meaning that the awe of hanging around with WWE Superstars had worn off a long time ago.

The silence continued while Vince read, his face left expressionless, though that wasn't exactly uncommon. Vince liked control, as did most people, for that matter, so Tobias forced himself to remain calm, knowing that he would have to wait, just like everyone else in the room. Unlike Paul and Stephanie, though, he had nothing to distract himself with, instead just watching Vince's eyes as they moved down the page in an agonisingly slow pace. He was savouring the moment far too much, but it was the same old power trip Tobias had come to expect.

"Well, this all looks fine. No steroids, no pain killers, no heightened hormone levels, no heightened cortisol levels. Ultrasound shows no tears or obvious inflammation. There's a whole load of other bullshit you don't need to worry about, but, in short, you're completely in the clear. So... don't screw it up. That's not an excuse to take it easy, though, but there are a few last minute things we need to do in order to have you one hundred percent ready for Wrestlemania, and RAW."

Tobias frowned, trying to work out exactly where the loophole was in this situation, but, if it existed, he couldn't work out where it was. Everything was going along perfectly... a little too perfectly. What were they playing at? No, better yet, who was going to be the victor at the end of the games?

"What kind of things?"

"That's for someone else to discuss with you," Stephanie said, quickly, cutting off whatever Vince had been about to say. "They'll be coming around to the house within the next few days to organise all of that. If Paul can spare you, at least."

"Spare him? Hardly. I'll just make him do six hours work in the space of three."

Vince laughed at Paul's comment, but Tobias knew better than to think that it was an empty threat. During their six hour sessions, there had been breaks, time to breathe, time to recover, but now? Now they'd just go flat out for three hours, at much faster pace than before. There'd be no break when he hit the mat. Paul wouldn't stand there, waiting for him to get to his feet. And that meant that Tobias wouldn't, either. Every single attack would have to count now, though at least there was no chance of him ending up with a broken nose, or bruises from Paul's fists. No one was going to hit him when he was in the ring, so there was no reason for the man to hit him when they weren't in front of the cameras.

"Alright Tobias, I think we're done here. I'd like you to have around, though; there are a few people who need to have a talk with you. We need a more permanent contract drawn up, for starters, that doesn't have the readiness clause that was in the original you signed in January."

Leaving them alone in the room probably wasn't the smartest thing Tobias had done, but he knew better than to do anything other than obey. Besides, if what Vince had said was true, he had other things that required his full attention just then, a belief that was confirmed when he was set upon the second he walked out of the room. The lawyers were only the beginning, and it seemed that he'd only just finished signing his name to the brand new contract before he was being dragged away by the wardrobe department. They'd taken his measurements a long time ago, and had already brought things to the house for him to try on, but there was always an issue, always a small problem that needed to be fixed in the next trial. The t-shirt design was too similar to the old one; his new ring tights were too tight, and then they were too loose; the grey winding design either too jagged or too smooth. Four months seemed like a long time, but turning design into real product in that space of time was more difficult than most would expect. This time, though, there were no issues. Finally, everyone had been pleased with the design, and everything fit perfectly. Of course, he was going to have to test them out in the ring, but he was pretty confident.

From there, he was kidnapped by one of the script writers, as well as the match designers, who began explaining to him both the main spots of the Money In The Bank match, and then the basics of the interview that followed. He'd forgotten about the interviews, but it was a pleasant surprise, especially when he was informed of what was going to happen once he left the room. It may not be the first time he saw Candice that day, but more than likely it would be. After all, Wrestlemania was always hectic, and with all the preparation he needed to do, it was unlikely he'd see anyone other than his opponents from the day.

By the time he got back to the house, he was already behind schedule, but Paul didn't mind. It just meant that they finished training later, and skipped over dinner to continue the weights training. At least this wasn't being increased in intensity, otherwise Tobias' arms might have fallen off, his legs following close behind. It was the latest they'd stayed up, apart from watching No Way Out, but, as with then, there was no change with the time he woke up the following day.

For the next four days, there was a schedule on the kitchen table when he woke up for him to read over coffee and breakfast, but if he'd been asked to recite it, he would have failed. Every day, there was training, always for a different length of time, with other meetings being slotted in the middle. One day, he was talking to one of the choreographers about his entrance, the next he was battling it out with a stylist, who wanted desperately to return him to a cardboard cut out of his former self. The training was harder, and more draining that he had originally thought, which meant that, on the fifth day, when he was woken at four in the morning, he had no idea who he was, or why he felt like absolute crap. Even the coffee didn't help this time, but thankfully he didn't have to think for the moment, since Paul was helping him pack before loading him into the back of a car. From car to plane, and plane to another car, he simply slept, enjoying the fact that it was morning and he wasn't facing off against Paul for six hours.

The second he arrived at the arena, though, there was a very large amount of coffee waiting for him, and when that didn't work, there was more prep for the ladder match, and nothing woke him up like missing a rung and plummeting down to the mat. One upside that he discovered that first fall was that the WWE rings had a lot more padding than Paul's had, but he was more than happy now. There were laughs as he pulled himself to his feet again, mainly because he hadn't actually been competing with anyone to get to the top, but instead was simply climbing the ladder. Nothing exciting, nothing all that demanding, and he'd still managed to screw up. It jolted him back to himself, though, and back to his senses. When he climbed the ladder a second time, he didn't slip up. He didn't miss a rung. The third, the fourth, the fifth time, he managed to get to the top, securely, and faster each time.

The only thing he hadn't done by the end of the first day was fall to outside of the ring. Back at the house, it had been grass he'd collapsed onto, but here, it was solid concrete, with a thin mat over it. Grass and dirt had some give to it. Concrete didn't. There was a large list of things he could have been terrified about right then, but this was the only thing that was actually a reality in his mind. He had been informed that his fall would be one of the spots of the match, since he'd be taking out three other competitors, but even if they were going to break his fall, there was a chance that something would go wrong, and he would, for whatever reason, miss. The last thing he needed was to injure his shoulder again, and that was exactly what a miss would do.

The next day was much of the same, but on a much higher level. The stage was still being assembled, but now there were a few more faces in the mix when he entered the ring. Jeff, Adam and Phil were standing in the ring, chatting casually amongst themselves, but they fell silent when he approached, conflicted expressions crossing their faces before they either turned away or refused to meet his gaze. Not a surprise, really, but he didn't care. They would just have to suck it up and put on the show they were paid for. There was plenty of time when it was all over for them to hate him.

Adam was the one to throw him off the ladder, and Jeff, Phil and Matt were supposed to catch him. Matt wasn't there at the time, off doing god knew what else at that point, which only lowered his confidence in the spot, something that Adam picked up on quickly. At some point in the past, they'd had conversations, played pool in bars, gotten far too drunk, but that didn't mean that Tobias expected to be welcomed back with open arms. So when he noticed Adam smirking, he was not at all comfortable standing atop the ladder.

"You look scared, Shadow Master."

"I was never a ladder guy, Adam. You know that. Submission, stamina, brawling, all those I could handle."

"Scared of heights?"

"Scared of what happens when I hit the ground."

Jeff and Phil were in position on the floor outside the ring, standing close together, since they'd most likely be fighting with each other during the actual event. Right now, though, they were simply chatting, as if they weren't about to try and catch someone jumping off a ladder at them.

"You gotta trust them, Cale. They may not be happy with all of this, but they're not going to just step out of the way."

"Who gets the case if I get injured?"

Adam opened his mouth to speak, but paused, his eyes darting around as he tried to think of something to say. Knowing the benefactor's identity wasn't exactly an issue, though. The issue was whether or not that man could be trusted to play the game fairly, and not do anything that could jeopardise Tobias' health. And, while he may have faith in people's character, accidents could happen. Hell, they did happen, rather a lot.

"We don't know. I know that they wrote the script for it, just in case, but they didn't leak the results to me, so they probably haven't leaked it to anyone. To be honest, I think they'd much rather you win the match than sabotage you and find out that they're not the chosen one. In short: have faith. They'll catch you."

Tobias wasn't given time to respond, before Adam's hands were gripping his temples, acting as a cushion of sorts, so that when their skulls collided, it wasn't really that bad. He fought back, of course, trading blows with the 'Rated R Superstar', but another headbutt supposedly had him reeling. All it would have taken was a tap, and he'd have fallen back, but then it wouldn't have been a spot. For this rehearsal, Adam simply shoved him, but during the match it was going to be a Spear. Tobias had maybe a second to wonder how much his ribs would hurt after Adam landed on them before he crashed into Phil and Jeff, who did catch him, helping to slow his fall, but also keeping their bodies between his and the concrete. Now would be the perfect time to take him out, and yet, they hadn't. For that, he certainly did respect them. And that respect grew with each repetition of the fall, since they caught him every time, even after Matt arrived. He was falling with his back to them, and yet, they didn't take advantage. Each and every time, they caught him. Not once did he feel the cold, hard concrete that awaited him.

Did he trust them? No. But he certainly did respect them.


	4. Still Afraid Of The Fall?

There were two matches before his, meaning that Tobias had about an hour to kill before he was needed in the ring, let alone standing around behind the curtain. The fear was flooding through him, just like it had that first time, when he'd been told to confront the Undertaker. He wasn't ready. Four months wasn't enough to make him ready, especially not for this. Even the most experienced of Superstars felt the nerves on Wrestlemania, but they had the advantage of having done exactly this, night after night, for months, possibly even a full year. He was not even close to being ready for this, but he'd signed away his life and soul for the opportunity. If there had ever been a time to pull out, it wasn't now. It might have been yesterday, or last week, but Tobias had been waiting for someone else to intervene, or tell him that he just wasn't up to it. He'd been waiting to get screwed, and it had never occurred to him that it would actually work out nicely.

There were seven other men waiting backstage when he arrived, and very few of them looked happy to see him. Matt and Jeff wouldn't look at him, since, no doubt, they would have been the favourites for winning the match instead of him. Phil was standing a little away from the group, lost in his own thought, Randy was pacing backwards and forwards, almost snarling to himself, and Shelton was bouncing on the balls of his feet in a manner that was bound to get old, fast. In fact, the only two people who didn't looked pissed at his arrival were Oscar and Adam. Rey and Adam. Hell, Tobias had never really spoken with Oscar outside of the ring, so he felt a tad bit awkward to be addressing the man by his formal name. At least Oscar didn't hate him, though. Probably because he hadn't arrogantly assumed that he was going to be handed the briefcase if Tobias was out of the picture.

"Still afraid of the fall?"

Adam had wandered over, Oscar close behind him, catching Tobias by surprise, but he refused to show it. He was too busy wondering how his shirt had suddenly become so tight over his chest, too busy wondering why the heavy coat, not exactly unlike the one Adam was wearing, had been made two sizes too small, and with twice the weight of before. And, when he was done obsessing over that, he'd start being paranoid about all the spots he was supposed to be taking part in, not to mention keeping his head for the entirety of the match. He needed to be strong enough, and conscious enough, to get up that ladder, and in a believable amount of time, and grab that case. And he'd have to not kill anyone by screwing up one of the eight Requiems he was supposed to be handing out.

"No... no, now I'm just afraid of myself, and all the ways I could screw it all up."

"If you're thinking like that," Oscar cut it, smiling at both Adam and Tobias as an apology, "then at least it means you trust us to catch you when you fall."

"Not to mention not breaking your neck, or your shoulder," Adam concurred, his face betraying the humour he found in the situation.

To be honest, Tobias didn't know how much he trusted them, but it was definitely more than he trusted himself. Considering the look that Randy was shooting him at that point in time, though, maybe trust was too strong of a word. The man was going to have the pleasure of working over his shoulder in about fifteen minutes time, and any one of those attacks, whether they be chair shots, grapples, strikes, or the occasional contact with a ring post, barricade or set of steps, could do a lot of damage. And to think, he'd been offered the opportunity to keep the shirt and have his shoulder taped up. Once again, it was too late to go back on that particular decision.

"If it's any consolation, Adam, I trust you."

The man just grinned, pushing his hair back from his face as he did. For some reason, Adam never seemed to be nervous, at least before a ladder match, but that was probably because they were practically his home turf. The man was a legend, and even if he hadn't been in the first ever ladder match, he was certainly one of the few that had made the match what it was today.

"That's because I'm the one Spearing you off the ladder, and not the one catching you."

Even Oscar had to laugh at that, and the butterflies in Tobias' stomach calmed themselves for a few seconds before realising exactly why they'd been fluttering in the first place. Those few seconds were exactly what he needed, though, to reign in his mind, and, most importantly, his paranoia. God, he was completely over this, and it had only been going on since he'd heard the pyro display go off on the stage. The match was only going to be twenty minutes long, but those twenty minutes would be the longest in his life, so far at least.

Not only did he hate ladder matches, he'd never competed in one before, and with good reason. That slip yesterday wasn't the first, though usually he didn't fall and make a complete ass of himself. After watching him practice the first time, the WWE had somehow managed to work out a way for him to be schedule into ladder matches, but avoid them almost a second later. For some reason, they seemed to think that he would improve in his ability to climb ladders, but he never did. It wasn't heights, it wasn't the ladders themselves. He just never felt comfortable in those matches.

"Hey man, you gotta catch me a few times too, from memory. If it's any consolation, I trust you."

Oscar brought him back to himself, and Tobias smirked in response, taking a deep breath for the first time that night. The fear and dread were being steadily replaced by excitement, and, of course, the adrenaline, but, above all that, there was simply a love for what he was doing, what he was about to do, and the contract he'd signed, promising him three years in the company. Having friends talking to him like he'd never left helped him remember that, and gave him something to focus, even though these were friends who were about to throw him off ladders, use him as a landing pad, and get close to knocking him out on multiple occasions.

Before anything else could be said, Lilian began her announcement of the match, and suddenly everyone was on their feet backstage, standing ready. The noise from the crowd was nearly deafening, to the point where they couldn't really understand everything that Lilian was saying towards the end, but that didn't matter. Randy's music overrode anything and everything else, and, with one final sneer back at everyone else, he ran up the steps and onto the stage, oozing confidence with every stride. Cocky son of a bitch didn't need a free shot at the title when he was going to be handed it within the next six months, but that wasn't stopping the writers from giving him every opportunity and more. Well, no, that wasn't entirely accurate. For all the opportunities he was given, he didn't have all that much to show for it.

Shelton was next, still bouncing around, even when he got to the top of the stairs, and Phil followed soon after. There was a gap, though, following Punk's music, a silence that stretched out longer than any of them would have liked. There wasn't supposed any sort of fighting going on, and there weren't any existing feuds between the men currently in the ring, so there really was no reason for the delay. Unless, of course, the audio department had screwed up again. Almost a minute later, the Hardys ran up the stairs, needing to be cued by the stage manager, which confirmed everything for them. Oscar should have gone next, so they'd either had an issue with his music, or the pyrotechnicians weren't ready for him. Lighting guys must have been delighted, too, since they were never the problem, and everyone else's issues just screwed them over rather badly.

Somehow, though, Oscar managed to laugh on his way up the steps, not allowing anything to bring his mood down. Adam and Tobias shared a look, both amused, but, at the same time, serious. The weight of the match was settling in, and they both needed their game faces. The amusing part of that, though, was that Adam's game face was a cocky grin, and he slapped Tobias on the back before he was signalled up by the SM, the jeers from the crowd echoing around the area Tobias was left standing in, all alone. This was the surprise. This was his time. He'd signed off on the video, on the music; he'd been walked through his entrance, informed of his own little display. Surprising the audience was one thing, but he was about to be bathed in black smoke from the moment he walked out onto the stage until he was almost at the end of the ramp. Walking in a straight line would be hard enough, but without any practice, he would have probably collided with one of the barricades.

The SM was patiently waiting to cue him on, but Tobias wouldn't have really cared if he never got the cue. However, once again, it was too late for that, and he heard his music begin, knowing that he had to wait a moment for the stage and ramp to fill with smoke. His entrance video wouldn't have started yet, instead running with some promo video. He'd seen it, once, and hadn't exactly understood it, but they needed to run something dark, rather than the Wrestlemania logo, and so the concept of some rather familiar grey symbols on a black background. He'd had the tattoos back when he'd been on Smackdown!, which meant that anyone who could actually see the titantron could probably work out exactly who was coming out, but, judging by the lack of reaction, they were yet to have their light bulb moment.

He ran through the curtain on cue, and was suddenly enveloped by the smoke, trying his hardest not to inhale too much of it. As far as he knew, there wouldn't be any difference, but it had been suggested that people would be able to spot him in amongst the fog if he was breathing too hard. Breathing too hard. As if walking wouldn't disturb the fog at all, they were worried that he was breathing too hard. Sometimes, Tobias really wasn't sure if these people were truly that anal, or if they were simply trying to make his life that little bit more difficult.

The lights were helping to guide him, but the further down the ramp he went, the more dense the fog became, though at least he was at the end. Stepping into the fresh air felt almost as surreal as walking through the fog itself, but it was nothing compared to the way the crowd reacted to seeing him. The music was still playing, and suddenly his video began, though he couldn't actually have testified to that. All he knew was that it was supposed to begin then, and beyond that, he really didn't care. The crowd... it was indescribable. Not as loud as they had been, or as they could be, but there were so many of them, more than he remembered, and more than he'd expected. Deafening wasn't even close.

"Ladies and gentleman, making his successful return to the WWE, the Shadow Master... Tobias Cale!"

They'd never used his name before. He'd always just been the Shadow Master, and while that wasn't exactly the most personal of names, it had worked. Now, though, he was here under his own name, which could turn against him, but who cared? There were the chants, the ones he remembered, almost competing with each other for attention.

Shadow Master.

Shades of grey.

The coat slipped from his shoulders, for someone else to pick up, and he pulled the t-shirt from his body a second later, throwing it over the barricade beside him without looking. It didn't matter whether or not the person who caught it was a fan, or even knew who the hell he was. He'd watch, later, and see if there was any enthusiasm at all, but he doubted it. People went crazy for Orton. They went crazy for Cena. Hell, even when he was playing the role of the bad guy, Adam had the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand, begging for just one moment with the infamous Edge, even if he'd just gone to town on the most popular guy in the business.

They were waiting for him to get in the ring, but he didn't move, allowing the fog to engulf him again in one final push before they finally turned off the machines and fresh air reclaimed the arena. Tobias couldn't help but savour the moment before he did, finally slide beneath the ring ropes and get to his feet. The ring seemed much, much smaller, than the one back at the house, but that was just his imagination. Or, at least, he hoped so, otherwise Paul had been giving him a lot more room to work that he really should have. Didn't help that there were seven other men in the ring, most of whom, as they were supposed to, were acting surprised and enraged. All they needed now was for the bell to ring, so that this twenty minutes to could be over, hopefully without incident.

He didn't hear the bell, but he knew that it rang, because suddenly Orton was rushing towards him. Tobias ducked the clothesline and tossed him over the top rope, only to find Phil running at him, exactly where he should have been, so that Tobias never actually stopped moving, forcing his knee into Phil's stomach, then sending him through the ropes and into the ring post. Matt and Jeff were next, and, as choreographed, he took a brief beating before delivering an uppercut to the both of them, before throwing Jeff out of the ring as well. Adam, strategically, had exited the ring to take advantage of Phil's dismissal, leaving only Oscar and Shelton, who simply glanced at each other before running forward as well. Tobias met them half way, side-stepping Shelton and executing a very brief Requiem on Oscar, which brought the crowd to their feet. Shelton rebounded off the ropes to find himself in a similar position, an arm tight around his neck, the other wrapping around his back from under his arm. There was no urgency this time, though, and he wrenched the hold just the once before hooking the man's leg out from under him, forcing him to the ground and pulling the man back against his knee. There was no need for a tap out, but the choreographers had wanted him to execute both finishers in the first few minutes, and it gave everyone the chance the needed to recoup. Like Matt, for instance, who climbed back into the ring about thirty seconds into the Embrace, and delivered a dropkick to the back of Tobias' head, breaking the hold.

His dominating moment was over, for the time being, and Matt dragged him out of the ring, joined by Jeff and Oscar a little later. The three of them were supposed to waste time but do no damage in the process. Hell, they were just trying to get the crowd's attention off him, and onto Adam and Randy, who were currently duking it out in the ring, with Phil lurking around just outside the ring, his hands on one of the many ladders scattered outside the ring. Tobias didn't know the specifics, too busy battling with his three combatants. It was going to become two in about two minutes, when Randy started climbing the ladder, but right now he was just holding one of Tobias's arms, Matt having secured the other, while Jeff walked the barricade like a tight rope. The blow of the other dropkick was lessened thanks to the fact that Matt and Oscar pulled him backwards just after contact. He went limp, as ordered, and that was Oscar's cue to release his arm and get back into the ring. Matt took hold of his other arm as well, while Jeff set up again, though this time not on the barricade.

The crowd was screaming at Randy, who had just thrown Oscar from the ladder, but their fury grew even more when he was attacked by Adam, holding a chair. Phil had, at some point, been knocked down during the fight, yet again, but not before setting up a ladder resting on the middle ring ropes in one corner. It was going to be very useful in about eight minutes' time, but that was then, and this was now. Now, Jeff was flying towards him, and Matt was loosening his grip on Tobias' arms, meaning that he could slip away at the final moment, not even turning to see how it ended. Instead, he slid straight into the ring, scrambling up the ladder faster than he'd managed before. It was a miracle that he didn't slip, and even more of a miracle that he didn't accidentally knock Adam off when he reached the top. Before he could even breathe, though, Adam's fist was flying towards his face, and he had to react, and return fire. Up another rung, more blows, another rung, more blows. Adam was standing on the top rung, trying to loosen the ties on the briefcase, but, as choreographed, he never had more than a second before Tobias was attacking again, and vice versa. The crowd waiting, almost begging for the fall to happen, but the longer they delayed it, the higher the expectations were. In truth, they were waiting for Matt, Jeff and Phil to get into position. The final attack was as much a surprise to Tobias as it was to the audience, but he had a few seconds of warning, just enough to push back off the ladder so that his feet wouldn't accidentally be caught by the rungs on his way down.

"Ready?"

"For what?"

Adam leapt forward, and Tobias jumped, arms forward to catch the man and hold them together for the plunge. He barely heard the comment Adam made as they fell, but it registered somewhere in his mind for him to think about as he crashed into Matt, Jeff and Phil, all of whom caught him, breaking his fall with their strength and simply with their presence. He didn't even feel the mat against his skin, but played dead regardless. Paul had taught him how to get to his feet, very quickly, but that wasn't what he was supposed to do just then.

"The highlight of the night."

Randy was pulling him to his feet a moment later, starting the assault on his shoulder. They wanted the chance to bring up his injury, and prove that he was fully healed. Anything to give the commentary team something to chat about during the down time, since nearly everyone was on their backs, supposedly out cold. Didn't make Tobias feel any better about having his arm wrapped around the ring post. Didn't make him feel any better when it was slammed down onto the barricade. Certainly didn't make him feel any better when Randy twisted his arm in its socket a few times, any of which could have potentially done enough damage to sideline him once again.

Out of nowhere, Oscar intervened with the assault, diving through the ring ropes and taking them both down again. This was when he was supposed to show resilience. This was when he proved why he'd been champion in the first place. Rather than staying down, he struggled to his feet, a beat behind Oscar, who was about to climb into the ring when Tobias grabbed him, delivering an electric chair onto the barricade. Randy was climbing to his feet, and that made him the third recipient of the Requiem, followed by Adam, who had only just made it to his feet. That left everyone down and out, and a ladder in the ring. Or, everyone mostly down and out. He'd barely set up the ladder when Phil entered the ring, only to find himself falling back first on the ladder, after another Requiem. Two more were handed out to Matt and Jeff, who had also entered the ring. Shelton kept his distance, until Tobias was most of the way up the ladder, but he, too, caught a Requiem, hooking his legs around a single rung so that he could execute the move without falling. He had no idea what happened, but he knew that sound anywhere. As planned, Shelton had somehow managed to propel himself across the ring and through one of the announce tables, something that would have probably hurt a fair amount. Thinking about that was pointless now, though. What mattered was getting the briefcase down before they had to think of something else to throw at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Oscar and Randy stirring, and knew that they'd have to rush the ring soon, a thought that helped to propel him up the later, not to mention keep him steady as he finally pulled the briefcase free, nearly falling off the ladder in the process. Hell, how he didn't fall during his descent was a miracle of sorts, but he didn't care. A few aches and pains, but they'd be gone by the morning. He'd just won the match, his first ever ladder match, and one that was going to keep him in the industry for... well, a while, so long as he did nothing to breach his contract. An aide was holding his coat, but he didn't let go of case, which made pulling the heavy garment on more difficult than it needed to be. He was allowed to take his time, though. There were no fights scheduled for after the match, so he could bask in the applause, not to mention his music blaring through the sound system.

The next forty minutes were an absolute blur, but he didn't care. He smiled at everyone he passed, he answered questions that he barely heard, and the whole time he clung to that briefcase like it might float away if he wasn't gripping it hard enough to possible leave dents. By the end of the interview, though, his mind had cleared enough for him to actually string a thought together. He needed it, too, since he was going to have to have a conversation with Candice the moment he was on the other side of the door. To be honest, Tobias had no idea if he was remotely ready for that, but it was about time to find out, and now was as good a time as any. Didn't make any difference, though, since it had to be live, and that meant a short window of opportunity, so he had to be ready, and he had to be ready now.

No pressure, though.

He knew the basic set up of the shot, and followed the instructions he'd been given, walking down the corridor as if there was no camera there, and as if this wasn't appearing on the titantron for all to see. Hell, this wasn't the first time he'd been up there, and at least this time everyone knew exactly who he was, and why he deserved any airtime at all. Adding Candice to the shot at least meant that there was some credibility, and for that he was glad.

"I heard you were back, Shadow Master. I just had to see it for myself."

He turned to face her, knowing that he was no longer facing the camera, but not caring. It looked a lot less scripted that way, and since it actually was, the more it resembled one, the better.

"Candice... long time no see."

"Too long, Cale."

He grinned once he registered that she was actually smiling, but before he could say anything, her hand was grasping the back of his neck, the other gripping his jacket as she pulled him closer, and kissed him. The beauty of it not being scripted was that he was as surprised as everyone else when it happened, emphasised by the rather loud noise the briefcase made as it fell from his hand and landed on the floor. His hands, now empty, were free to find their way to her back, seeking out the bare skin between the leather of her ring gear. It was an incredibly chaste kiss by WWE standards, but that wasn't what was on his mind right then. Right then, all he could think about was the warm body pressed against his chest, the soft lips against his own, and the fact that no one had actually told her to kiss him. And it certainly wasn't short-lived.

"I missed you, Tobias."

He had no response for that, and instead just watched as she walked away, taking a little too long to recover, though at some point he was informed that the cameras were off. An interesting first night, that was for damn sure, and tomorrow would be even stranger still. Needless to say, he was looking forward to it.


	5. In Front Of The Camera

There was a script waiting for him in his hotel room when he was finally made it to bed that night. Much as he wanted to sleep, and not read, he knew that it would be foolish to try and get a grasp on everything tomorrow, especially when they were going to need as much of his time as possible to walk him through the match they had planned for that night. They'd told him, before he left, who he was facing, but by the time he was in his hotel room, he'd completely forgotten. Script in hand, he lay down on the bed, flicking to the earmarked page and starting to read. It wasn't until he was on the second page that he realised what was going on, forcing him to go back to the beginning and start again. He'd been expecting something to do with his arrival on RAW, but it was nothing to do with that. Hell, by the look of it, they were going to announce it without him even being present. This was going to be one hell of an experience.

Sure enough, the next morning he was woken quite early, though about half an hour later than he'd actually been expecting. Whoever it was on the other end of the line passed on the message of how long he had to get to the arena, as well as where he needed to go, and what he needed to bring. For the sake of keeping up appearances, he had been given the Money In The Bank briefcase, or at least a copy of it, to carry about with him at all times. Pretty much, whenever they told him to bring that, he knew that he wouldn't have a chance to head home previous to the taping of the show, but that wasn't too much of a concern. In fact, he'd expected it, and hadn't bothered to unpack after arrival. Once again, he had Paul to thank for most of this, since the man had taught him how to function on little sleep after a long day's work. Who knew; maybe he'd get the chance to have a brief nap before the show properly started.

There weren't that many people at the arena so early in the morning, but he managed to get to the ring with very little hassle, and certainly no locked doors. John was already waiting in the ring, a cocky smile on his face as he watched Tobias approach. They'd never really seen eye to eye, part of which was the aftermath of them being on different shows, but there was more to it than that. The man was a prat, as far as Tobias was concerned, but if they were going to have to work together, then he would just have to swallow that, and try to work around it. Or, when that failed, they'd have to find some other way to deal with it. If that meant a fight, then that meant a fight. Thankfully, he wasn't all flash and no substance. If there was a fight, John might find that he was dealing with more than he expected.

"You know, I heard rumours that you were coming back."

"Guess they're more than just rumours now, huh?"

That grin was still on his face, but it was plastered now, rather than genuine. Thankfully, they didn't need to search for any more small talk, as their choreographer had arrived, beginning to walk them through what was going to happen during their match. Tobias tried to remember everything that he could, but there was the constant distraction of John's objections. He was the current WWE champion, of course, and, thanks to the fans fuelling his ego, he was under the impression that his opinion actually meant something when it came to how the matches went, even if he had conceded that he couldn't control the result. Every time the choreographer managed to get a rhythm going, John would interrupt, and they'd be forced to begin again, turning this into a truly torturous experience. They did manage to get through it, though, but that was just the explanation. They still had to rehearse a few of the finer points, including the ending of the match, since there was a special surprise for everyone that needed to be worked out perfectly. At least John wasn't trying to raise any objections during the actual run through, otherwise Tobias might have actually punched him, rather than just pretending to. The man was infuriating, but he knew his place, apparently. Tonight might be a different matter.

When they were done, he was sent backstage, first to shower, then to change, then to make up. The latter, of course, was something he heartily regretted, but it was unavoidable, especially since there was a deadline to keep, and not a lot of time had been set aside to filming his promo. There wasn't a whole lot to say, not that it mattered, of course, since he was likely to need as many takes as they could get. For whatever reason, they'd decided that he needed to run into Melina, and she would more than likely slap him, and if it were only the once, he'd be getting off lightly. Having dated the girl for near enough a year, he knew how... well, passionate might have been the right word, but, then again, maybe not. He did remember a particular argument they'd had, though, which had ended in her striking him no less than four times in the space of a few minutes. Served him right, of course, but it didn't mean that he'd enjoyed it all that much.

"Did they ask you to keep it a secret?"

He clenched his teeth, then turned, having not realised that there was someone else in the room, let alone the one person he wasn't sure he wanted to face when there wasn't a camera filming the entire event. The conversation was unavoidable, though, and the sooner he realised that, the better it was for them both.

"Did they ask you not to mention it, to anyone? Not give anyone a head's up?"

"Yeah. They wanted a surprise."

"I can keep secrets, Tobias. You know that, as well as anyone else. Better than anyone else."

His coat was resting on the hanger, waiting to be worn, but he didn't really want to break eye contact with Melina just then. If he was watching her, then she couldn't sneak up on him and... well, he didn't know, exactly, but she certainly couldn't sneak up on him. Besides, the closer he watched her, the less likely he was to miss something that would either give him a hint as to what she might do next, or allow him some insight into her emotions.

"It's not that I don't trust you. They just asked me not to-"

"Tell everyone? Or tell me? Did they want my real emotion, for all the world to see? Or did you want to see my reaction in the flesh?"

He needed a moment, just a moment, to get his thoughts in order, but she most likely took that to mean that whatever he was going to say was a lie. She had always managed to see through his lies, regardless of how hard he tried to conceal them, but that was then, and this was now. They'd both changed in the space of a year, even if neither of them would likely believe that if it was said. People changed; that was truth and fact. The fact that they were no longer dating pretty much confirmed that.

"You think so lowly of me? You think I'd deliberately put you through that?"

"I don't know. I don't know you, so how am I supposed to know whether or not you'd do something like that."

"You're the one who ended things."

"You're the one who gave me no choice."

"Gave you no choice? Gave you no fucking choice?"

He ripped the coat from its hanger, pulling it on as quickly as he could, wanting to get the hell out of the room, and the sooner the better. They couldn't have this argument now, not when they had to jump in front of a camera in the not too distant future. Emotions running high wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but anger certainly wasn't what they were supposed to be portraying. This was supposed to air not long after it was announced that he was going to be joining the RAW roster, and Melina was supposed to be surprised, but not enraged. Then again, it was the reaction that the crowd was expecting, so why not? Why not give them something a little more real?

"They want us to get back together. Was that your doing?"

"My doing? I'm only here because the writers were bored, and this was what their fantasy script turned out to be. All I knew when I signed on was that they wanted me to win at Wrestlemania. Everything else they're just feeding to me as each week starts."

"I'm having a hard time believing you."

"Then don't believe me. Doesn't make a difference in the end, does it?"

For some reason, he hadn't left the room yet, instead turning to face her again, leaning against the door frame and waiting. What for remained to be seen, but he couldn't help himself. Her tone was softer than before, which was part of what had compelled him to stop, but her words hadn't lost their bite in the slightest.

"You honestly want me to believe that they haven't sat you down and walked you through everything yet?"

"They didn't think that I was going to be able to pull it off last night. Since they contacted me in January, I've signed three different contracts; one so that I was exclusive to the WWE and TNA didn't poach me, one that had a termination clause if I wasn't ready to compete in the match last night, and another once I passed the physical. I expect they'll sit me down sometime this week, if they've got the time."

"Did you know that Candice was going to kiss you last night, then?"

His fist met the doorframe rather solidly, not enough to do any real damage to the wood, or to his fist, but enough for her to jump, stepping backwards as if she was worried that he might hurt her.

"What the fuck do you want from me, Lina? For me to say that I miss you? I did that. For me to say that I love you? I did that... and then we both moved on. For me to march up to the writers and tell them to leave you out of the storyline? They're the only reason I'm even here. Be angry all you want, but don't even think that you've got a right to pull a jealousy act."

"You think I'm jealous?"

She marched towards him, slapping him soundly before her hand met his chest, fisting his t-shirt tightly as she pulled his head down to her level. For a moment, he thought that she was just going to slap him again, but instead she kissed him, in an almost identical fashion to the way Candice had the previous night. When she pulled away, though, there was no smile on her face; in fact, no expression at all.

"A kiss is just a kiss when it's in front of the cameras. Nothing to be jealous about."

"There aren't any cameras here."

"I'm proving a point, Cale. I'm not jealous of whoever decides to take an interest in your life. Hell, I couldn't care less. If you want to start screwing Candice, be my guest, but don't think that I'm ever anything other than pissed at you."

She shoved him away, pushing past him in order to leave the room, but he let her go, not especially wanting to get slapped again, but also still unsure as to exactly how screwed he truly was. There was a distinct possibility that she'd kill him, at some point in the future, but that wasn't what confused him the most. In fact, the worst part of this was that he didn't actually know what was coming next. It wasn't the storyline he was concerned about, it was every other day of the week when he wasn't in front of a camera. Publically, everything would go exactly like planned, but privately, she could torture him for as long as she wanted, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then again, part of him did believe that he deserved this, even if it had been a mutual thing.

"Are you ready, Mr. Cale?"

He didn't answer, instead walking into position. Melina was supposed to bump into him as he was walking through the corridors, but, because they needed to keep the shot close, he was to remain stationery, and she was to approach him. From the look in her eyes, she would have preferred to have kept going right past him, or, better still, slapping him, but she wouldn't. He may have been worried before, but now was different. Now, though, she'd had her opportunity.

"Okay, we're on in three, two, one..."

There it was. When they'd been dating, she'd somehow managed to keep a neutral face if and when they were ever seen together. It didn't matter if they crossed paths in the background of another shot, or if they happened to meet eyes when they were in the ring together. Now, that mask was as in place as it had been there, but instead of hiding a smile or a flirtatious wink, she was trying to conceal outright fury. Thankfully, they didn't have that much to say to each other.

"What are you doing here, Shadow Master? I thought that Smackdown! was your hunting ground."

"I proved myself on Smackdown!, but not on RAW. It's time I showed these guys exactly what they were missing."

"You really think you're still that good? You may have been champion when you left, but everyone else has had a year to improve. From what I've heard, you hadn't set foot in a ring until last night."

"If I've got ring rust, and I can still win a Money In The Bank ladder match, then what happens when I'm back to the way I used to be?"

She narrowed her eyes, as she was supposed to, and took another step towards him, almost studying him as he patiently waited. He wasn't supposed to smile, or even blink if it could be helped, but it was hard not to breathe a little harder when he saw the well concealed fire in her eyes. It wasn't the slap he was worried about this time, not when there was so much more she could do to him.

"What makes you think you're even going to make it that far? There are champions here who you've never stepped into the ring with, and you've lost the element of surprise. You're not going to win another match that easily."

"Easily? You think that ladder match was easy?"

"CM Punk came after you left, as did Jeff. You never battled Matt, or Rey, or Edge, or Shelton. The only person there who knew anything of your style was Randy, and when he did get his hands on you, he almost broke your arm. You're just lucky that he was off fighting someone else for most of the match, otherwise you never would have won."

Of course, that was intentional. This conversation was meant to confirm what some of the fans were no doubt already thinking, a thought that would be disproved later on in the evening. At this point, though, the question was still up in the air, but Tobias couldn't stop the smirk that rose to his face, acting about as confident as he felt, if not even more so.

"Quick to judge, aren't you?"

"I know you, and I know them. If you think you can just walk over everyone here, then you're about to have a rude awakening."

"Rude or not, there will certainly be an awakening."

It should have been the end of the scene, but the writers hadn't stopped them there. It did seem right, though, to walk past Melina, as if everything was over. It wasn't in the script, and it might have surprised the camera man, who had to pull back the shot in order to keep him in it, but that didn't matter all that much to him. If they need to, they could always do another take.

"Cena's been running his mouth a lot since he claimed the championship, you know. He says that you're either champion, or not. Winner, or not. Great, or not. It's all very..."

"Black and white?"

She smirked, and he simply raised an eyebrow, since she'd skipped a few lines of their dialogue. Made no difference to the direction of the conversation, and no one had called a halt to their little chat, so obviously they didn't care either.

"Exactly."

"I guess I'll have to open his mind to the shades of grey."

He was almost disgusted with the fact that he'd had to say the line, but it didn't show. Melina, on the other hand, was scripted to smirk at him, so she was allowed to take as much pleasure as she wanted in his concealed dismay. He only had to hold her gaze for a few more minutes, though, before he once again turned around and walked away, giving the camera a nice view of his heavy coat and the briefcase in hand, which the art department had already detailed for him, adding the same design that currently adorned his wrestling attire. It seemed reasonably pointless to him, but they'd done it for Rob the previous year, and therefore had demanded the opportunity to do the same for him.

When no one actually called him back, Tobias just kept walking to his locker room, knowing that he still had a fair amount of time to kill before the show started, but that was time that could be spent sleeping, although he was certainly going to have a bite to eat first. Or several bites. Just enough to keep him going that night, since tomorrow, and hell, the rest of the week, wouldn't require him to be working so flat out.

At some point during the day, he'd fallen asleep, but thanks to the fact that he wouldn't be needed until the final match of the night, no one woke him until about halfway through the show. For a moment, he thought that they might have actually allowed him to sleep too late, meaning that he would be disqualified, and no doubt harshly punished, but there was a clock on the wall that quickly eased his fears. The assistant who had woken him walked away, remaining silent, but it wouldn't have surprised him if they started muttering under their breath the minute they were out of his earshot. Didn't matter. He couldn't have cared less what they thought about him, so long as they continued to make sure that he was ready and waiting for each of his matches.

The locker area was mostly backstage as he made his way through, which wasn't entirely surprising, since those who weren't needed had mostly likely already headed home, but there were still a few familiar faces hanging around. No words passed between them, but Tobias wasn't complaining. Tonight's match wasn't going to be full of stunt action, and it was only going to be the two of them in the ring, which meant that he'd have to focus a hell of a lot more, since he wouldn't be spending five or more minutes playing dead while someone else went to town on him. John was the champ here, and they'd spent a long time building him up to be the brand new Hulk Hogan, so the match had to pretty much be right down the middle, until the end. Sounded all well and good, but that wasn't how matches usually went, and for a reason. When you were the one being beaten to a pulp, you didn't have to do any lifts, and, in truth, you were given a moment to rest. Unlike John, though, Tobias had been pulling six hour training sessions with Paul, and he hadn't been allowed to take a break then. What was a twenty-five minutes match in comparison?

Cena was waiting at the base of the stairs, that same cocky grin on his face from earlier that morning, the WWE title resting on his shoulder. For someone who knew that he was about to lose, he seemed pretty pleased with himself, but, as with the other competitors of the Money In The Bank match, he was probably under the assumption that Tobias wouldn't make it to the end of the match, and he'd have the chance to claim the victory. So long as Cena didn't do anything to jeopardise his chances. It wouldn't be the first time a Superstar decided to make sure the new guy was pulling his weight in the match. If he tried to interfere with the Requiem, though, John may just find himself with a seriously injured neck. It wasn't the way Tobias wanted to events to play out, especially since it may mean he'd win the title prematurely, or at least cash in much earlier than was currently planned.

"Ready?"

Adam had asked exactly the same question last night, but he hadn't sounded at all condescending when he'd spoken. Tobias was reasonably sure he knew what the answer would be if he asked exactly what he was supposed to be ready for, and honestly, he didn't want to be distracted during the match. Or, rather, he didn't want yet another reason to try and knock the man out in reality, rather than simply pretending to. It would not do him any favours, that was for certain.

"Are you going to ignore me now? Believing your own hype?"

"You're going to lecture me about believing my own hype?"

John actually looked offended, but before he had time to come up with some smartarse comeback, the stage manager was calling for him, signalling that their match was about to begin. Tobias had thought that he had more time, but it was entirely possible that the show was running ahead of schedule. That, or he'd taken longer to walk from the locker room than he'd thought. Didn't really matter. He had a match to win, and honourably, at that, and a crowd to try and win over. No one had told him how sales had gone with his t-shirts, but there hadn't been as many cheers last night as there had been when he'd been champion the previous year. Champions did receive more of a fanfare, of course, but it was still rather disheartening to be treated with indifference, even though that wasn't entirely the case. It was just the paranoia, though, just the same old fear that he was turning into one of those top ranking Superstars who no one really cared about, and would just as soon forget.

It was almost ten minutes, though, before Cena's music actually sounded through the arena, which led Tobias to believe that the stage manager had actually broken up their discussion, either to save one of them, or to prevent a brawl, Tobias didn't know, and nor did he care. All that mattered was that he didn't screw up during the match. With negative thinking like that, it was actually more likely for him to make a mistake, but he would be kept on his toes until he was more comfortable, and any sign of confidence would lead him straight into complacency. In other words, he actually would screw up.

The moment Cena was through the curtain, the stage manager was calling him up. They'd explained to him that his entrance wouldn't be the same as the one at Wrestlemania. For starters, they couldn't really afford to pump that much haze into the arena every night, especially since it had to be treated especially to come out black. That didn't mean that there wouldn't be any haze at all, though. His entrance was going to look rather similar to Adam's now, and no doubt many would be drawing that same conclusion when they saw it. The machines would be directed so that the excess made its way down the ramp, but he wouldn't be completely hidden as he had been the night before. Not that it mattered. When he'd been on Smackdown!, they hadn't used any effects at all until he'd become champion, and Tobias didn't think that they were necessary. Still, though, there was no arguing with them.

He managed the entire walk without even really thinking, shedding his coat in the same place as he had the night before, and as he had all throughout his career, and placing his briefcase next to the steps, rather than in the corner of the ring like most.. It was only when he was in the ring, facing John, that reality came back to him. He was deaf to every sound that the crowd made, deaf to whatever the ref was saying; oblivious to just about everything other than the title in the ref's hand, and Cena, on the other side of the ring. In fact, the only sound he heard was the bell ringing, and from then, he barely had a moment to think. He knew what he was supposed to do, knew exactly what moves he was supposed to make. A test of strength, which he won, followed by a tie up, which he also won. But then Cena got in a few shots, but not enough to build momentum. They traded blows, traded grapples, submission moves, the lot. Roughly halfway through, they were tied up in the middle of the ring again, but in a marginally different way. This time, Tobias had his own particular hold in place around Cena's neck and arm, while the champ was trying desperately to break out of it, refusing to allow Tobias to do anything more than clinch the hold every so often. It wouldn't be hard to execute the Requiem, or the Embrace, but that was too easy, and they weren't going to have Cena power out of that in Tobias' first match.

He broke free, in the end, and they went back to the original game. John was very clearly out of breath, and, while there were higher stakes to this than the training with Paul, Tobias wasn't feeling all that tired. When they tied up the next time, though, it was Tobias' turn to take advantage, but he hesitated a moment, just long enough for Cena to get his breath back before he threw the man across the ring. People could say what they wanted about him, and no doubt John would turn this against him, but he didn't care. The man would no doubt say that Tobias needed the moment himself, but what did it matter? All that mattered was that Cena didn't look too completely exhausted. He had to keep up his image, after all.

More battling. More fighting. More locking up, more striking, more grapples, but no one taking any sort of control. Twice, Tobias appeared to be in trouble, the first time up on Cena's shoulders, moments away from an FU, the second time flat on his back, primed and ready for a Five Knuckle Shuffle. Both times, he avoided the move, before mounting some form of short-lived comeback. At least they had the audience on the edge of their seats; a good way to end the show. It was more than likely that they were expecting him to cash in his briefcase at the end of the match, and was therefore simply taking it easy in the match, and weakening Cena in preparation.

By the end of the match, John could barely get to his feet, let alone keep his breathing under control. True, it had been a rather draining match, and even Tobias was starting to feel it, but still, if the man was going to call himself champion, it was about time he proved that he had the stamina of a champion. No breaks. No rests. No barely rising in time to beat the ten count. Proper endurance. With this in mind, Tobias caught Cena after he came flying off the ropes, all set up for a shoulder block, but instead finding himself locked up yet again. There was no resistance this time, though, as Tobias hooked the champ's leg out from under him, forcing him to the ground. Almost the moment he landed on the mat, a knee was forced into his chest, forcing whatever oxygen that was left out of his lungs.

"I'm not tapping, Toby."

"Just like you won't lie down long enough for a pinfall?"

John snarled, trying to break free of the hold, but Tobias kept it locked in, tightening his grip just enough to actually begin to cut off the flow of oxygen. If he didn't tap, then he'd surely pass out, and the ref would find a way to end the match that way. The more John struggled, though, the worse it would be for him, but, despite knowing that, he fought back. Each time he did, though, Tobias wrenched the hold that little bit more aggressively, and that little bit tighter, until John had no choice. There was no doubt in Tobias' mind that the champ had simply been trying put on a good face, and appear stronger than he actually was, but he had failed. Unsurprisingly.

As soon as the bell rang, Tobias released the hold, pushing Cena away from him before climbing to his feet, moving to one of the turnbuckles furthest from the stage and ascending it, posing for the crowd, who were certainly cheering him a lot more now than they had been when he walked out initially. He heard the shift, though, the jeers as Orton ran out. He heard the sound of footsteps in the ring, but waited, knowing that he looked stupid for doing so. If the crowd could heard Randy's footsteps, then he should have been able to as well, but that was the point. With a sigh, Tobias turned, straight into an RKO, which brought him down from the second rope, all the way to the mat. He closed his eyes, pretending to have been knocked out, and trying not to react as each kick rained down on him. There were more jeers, and then a wild applause, meaning that Cena had climbed to his feet, and was watching Orton's assault. Those cheers faded, though, as he rolled out of the ring and walked away. With seemingly no one left to save him, Tobias remained limp as Orton attacked him, pulling him to his feet and continuing the work that had been started the night before on his arm.

It was when he went for another RKO that the real surprise came, though. One moment, Orton was holding him in place, drawing out the process, mocking him, and the next he'd been released to hang onto the ring ropes while London and Kendrick sprinted down from the back. Tobias could only imagine what the commentators were saying, but no doubt the words 'Shadow Ministry' had made their way into the first sentence out of their mouths. Randy was quickly subdued, and made a quick escape at the first opportunity. That was Tobias' cue to straighten up, moving to the stage side of the ring, with London and Kendrick on either side of him, the three of them watching Orton leave with matching smirks before they left the ring together, Tobias taking point as he always had. Behind him, London and Kendrick were talking to each other, not having to feign the excitement in their words or actions. He was looking forward to the rest of the storyline if this was how it had started.


	6. Looks Like The Band's Back Together

He flew out that night, and once again crashed in his hotel room without saying more than two words to anyone. He knew that some of his co-workers would be out on the town, celebrating two successful shows, but Tobias was exhausted by that point, and would have most likely collapsed if he'd tried to join them, a thought confirmed when he slept for nearly fourteen hours, woken by the sound of someone knocking on his door. The next few days were supposed to be his own, but that didn't stop them from dropping a script off at his room, as well as the weekly schedule. Once again, there was an earmarked page, but when he opened it, there was only a list of who would be involved in the scene, with no supporting dialogue. In fact, the only direction there was that London and Kendrick were supposed to interrupt at some point, but exactly where wasn't specified. Not that it mattered. A quick glance at the net confirmed that there had been a lot of focus on the quick scene between himself and Candice, and they were eager for more. And what the fans wanted, they got.

Apart from the delivery of the script, no one came to find him for the next few days. Tobias spent most of that time in the gym, continuing the training regime Paul had set for him, making up for the lack of time spent in the ring by working extra hard in increasing his strength. Every so often, he ran into someone else from the company, but no words were exchanged, which didn't bother him at all. It was going to be a long time before they accepted him, and that time could be used for much better things, like keeping in shape, and getting better, even if he had been able to outlast Cena. That was only a twenty-five minute match, though. If he was ever in something a little bigger, then he might be fighting up to an hour, and that would be a true test of endurance.

On Friday, though, there was another knock at his door, catching him just as he exited the shower. It was probably another script, or another schedule, but whoever was acting as courier for him would not want to be kept waiting, especially when they probably needed to make deliveries to everyone in the hotel. Upon opening the door, though, Tobias immediately regretted not having put on anything other than a pair of boxers under his towel. Adam and Candice was standing in his doorway, and in an instant, the innocent smiles on their faces turn to devilish smirks, not even waiting for an invitation before they pushed passed him and into the room. Adam went straight for the minibar, while Candice found her way to the only couch in the room and quickly sprawled over it, almost as if she was in front of a camera. With a sigh, Tobias pushed the door shut, unsure as to whether he should keep an eye on them or find some clothes. When he saw that Adam had already retrieved the majority of the drinks from his fridge, though, he knew that there wasn't a whole lot worse they could do, and left them long enough to throw on a pair of jeans and a shirt. When he returned, Candice hadn't moved, but Adam had made himself comfortable in a lounge chair, Tobias' copy of this week's script open in his hands.

"Alright... I'm not going to ask how you found out which room was mine, but I am going to ask what you're doing here."

Candice's eyes were closed, but she grinned at his question, stretching on the couch in a way that almost every male in the world would find seductive. Adam, on the other hand, closed the script and threw it only the coffee table before glancing in Tobias' direction.

"Well, let's just say you chose the right clothes."

"What have you got up your sleeve?"

Adam glanced down at his arms, or, more importantly, the t-shirt he was wearing, and the sleeves that couldn't have been any tighter without tearing. Candice had finally opened her eyes, but she didn't need to draw attention to the fact that she wasn't wearing sleeves at all, but they didn't keep up the act for too long.

"Adam thought we should take you out. You know, rescue you from your self-imposed solitude."

"I don't need rescuing, thank you. And I don't think that going out would be the greatest of ideas."

"Why not? You have a lot of steam you need to let off, Tobias."

She was the only one who had consistently called him Tobias, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Everyone else had a nickname of some sort, but not her. Didn't matter, though. If he allowed himself to focus on that, then he'd be talked into going out that night, and he certainly didn't like the sound of that.

"A lot of steam? I'm perfectly fine."

"People who are perfectly fine don't spend an entire week not speaking to other people," Adam commented, finishing off the bottle of soft drink before throwing it across the room, missing the bin in the corner by a fair amount. "C'mon; what damage is one night going to do?"

He didn't answer, for a moment, taking a seat in the only remaining chair and taking hold of one of the remaining bottles. They weren't going to let him off easy, that much he knew, but they were going to have to put up a pretty descent fight in order to convince him to leave his room.

"One night? I remember drinking with you, Adam; one night means two days of recovery, minimum. I know better now."

Adam simply laughed, throwing his head back in the process, but Tobias knew better than to trust that laugh. It wasn't the fake, forced one he used when in front of the camera, with its sinister undertones, but that wasn't exactly a comfort. Adam was at his most dangerous when he was simply being playful.

"We'll take care of you. Won't we, Candice?"

She was even worse. Even if he had been foolish enough to trust Adam, Tobias was never going to put any faith in Candice seeing to what he considered as the definition of his well-being. They wanted to get him drunk, keep him out as late as possible, then drag him home to sleep it off. He really didn't need to lose a day, or two, rather, since he would forget the entirety of the night, and sleep for the majority of the day that followed. The worst part was that he knew they were swaying him.

"Of course we will. You can trust us."

Two devilish smiles, and Tobias found himself laughing, unable to help himself. How he hated them at that moment. They knew what they were doing, but they hadn't needed to plan anything. They were just too playful, and that was one of his few weaknesses.

"Never."

"It's been over a year since we last went out on the town together, Tobias. Give us a chance to redeem ourselves."

"In her defence, Cale, she's never taken you out. It wouldn't really be redemption on her part."

That cheeky grin never faded from Adam's face, not during the conversation, nor when they left the hotel and found a club, nor when they returned in the early hours of the morning. Tobias had drunk far too much, and already there were large portions of the night that were a blur to him. By the next morning, there would be even more dark spots in his memory, but that wasn't to say that he hadn't enjoyed himself. A little too much, perhaps, but there was no question that it had been fun. As was the next night, and the night following that. During the day, he kept to his schedule as best he could, and when he was called to the venue on both Saturday and Sunday, he managed not to let on that he'd had very little sleep, and that he had a raging headache, though he was reasonably certain that at least one person had guessed. Not that it mattered. His memory was perfectly fine so long as the sun remained up, though the same could not be said for once it set.

Monday found him sleeping in until early afternoon, waiting until the last possible moment before he needed to be up and moving, not that he needed to do all that before heading off to the venue. Thankfully, he'd had the common sense to go easy on the alcohol the night before, and his head wasn't pounding the way it had been during days previous. Candice and Adam could be partially thanked for that, but he never would have been in this situation if they hadn't dragged him out in the first place. Still, though, he couldn't focus on it for that long, needing to move, and quickly, though finding no help from the shower, or the doubly strong coffee he swallowed without thought. Unfortunately, Tobias was acutely aware of exactly what would wake him up, but he wasn't entirely sure when he'd be experiencing that, apart from during the show itself. And that was not the time to be regaining consciousness. Maybe he'd be able to get a few minutes of time down at the ring, and someone to spar with. Or, rather, someone to floor him, in one way or another, all in the name of helping.

Orton actually granted his wish, within five minutes of the two of them arriving at the ring. Unlike John, he didn't interrupt every five second, instead remaining completely silent and simply listening. And, when they were in the ring, running through a few of the main spots, he followed what he'd been told to the letter, for the most part actually easing back, particularly with any arm related submissions. Tobias had a lot of experience with the man, since they'd had a relatively long lasting feud with each other during his previous run on Smackdown!, but he'd never seen Randy so... well, so composed. So serious. He actually noticed the one or two times Tobias wasn't quite aware of what they were doing, and slowed everything down, once actually stopping to repeat the original instructions. Actual professionalism. Rumour had it that when he'd taken a month off, claiming injury, he'd actually been suspended for misconduct, and now was making up for it. When there was no one around, though, things might just be as they always had. Considering the amount of time Randy spent with John, it was incredibly unlikely that he was going to be any different.

This time, he didn't spend the hours before the show asleep and alone. For whatever reason, Adam and Candice had taken it upon themselves to keep him company whenever possible, and while he appreciated the gesture, it was still a little concerning that they thought he needed to be constantly coddled. It was early days yet, and they'd probably ease up when he was more settled in. Or, rather, when other people would do more than just glare at him. Everything in this industry needed to be earned, but most of the roster had short memories, and had forgotten that Tobias had actually earned his place at the top of the pile, even if he hadn't necessarily earned the briefcase and the contract within. He had, essentially, just taken a break, and nothing more. The sooner they realised, the easier it would be, for everyone. Not that he wasn't enjoying himself, though. Actually relaxing before a match kept him wide awake, and kept him calm, although the latter went completely out the window when the stage manager appeared. His was the first match of the night, which created a lot of pressure. If they screwed up, the entire show would be derailed. If they did well, the show would go well. If he was injured, though, then they'd have to find something to replace the promo he was set to appear in with Candice a little after the match. This paranoia really was getting old, and he'd get over it, sooner rather than later, but for the time being, it was all he could think about, even as he approached the stairs, where Randy was already waiting, lost in thoughts as he had been at Wrestlemania.

There was only the slightest of preambles before Orton's music sounded throughout the arena, and the man immediately leapt into action, running up the stairs and through the curtain. It only felt like a few seconds before the stage manager was cueing him up the stairs, though it must have been a few minutes at least, but Tobias didn't care about the passage of time, so long as he did everything necessary along the way. Matches sometimes felt like they'd only gone for five minutes, and it had been three or four times that long. Sometimes, it felt like two hours, but had only been thirty or so minutes. It didn't matter, though. He was in the ring now, staring down Randy but not remembering the walk down the ramp. He wasn't wearing the coat, or holding the briefcase, so he'd obviously done that part right, but that didn't mean that he had been fully conscious when he had. It appeared that time couldn't make up its mind, sometimes speeding ahead, other times dragging on, but Randy was once again proving his worth. Each and every move was exactly as they'd worked out that afternoon, including the direction he was facing for particular submissions, and how far he was from the turnbuckle when his back met the ropes during an Irish Whip. Thanks to this, he knew exactly where they were, and how far they had left before the match was over.

Unlike John, Randy barely said a word, and certainly didn't struggle as he fell victim to the Requiem. In fact, the only thing he said was a brief congratulations as the ref counted the three, and the bell sounded. He even continued to sell the move as Tobias left the ring, not even twitching until the Shadow Master had collected his coat and briefcase and was halfway up the ramp. There weren't that many Superstars on the roster who would have allowed themselves to look that weak, but obviously Randy felt that it was necessary, since he hadn't been given any sort of instructions as to how long he was supposed to sell the move. Originally, there'd been talk of some form of attack just about now, and perhaps he had been waiting for that, but considering the amount of professionalism he'd shown so far, it was unlikely that Randy had forgotten. Tobias let out a sigh, needing to actually gather his thoughts as he stared down the Legend Killer from the stage, trying to form them into some sort of coherency. Thankfully, he did have some time to remain completely stationery before he walked away again, and by that point time had actually started running the way it was supposed to, not to mention that his head was clearer than it had been since...

He was never going out with Adam and Candice the night before a show again.

Funnily enough, as if she'd known that she was on his mind, Candice was waiting at the foot of the steps, lounging casually as she always did on a nearby road case. He paused, just for a moment, before walking past her, smirking to himself as he heard the telltale sound of heels on concrete following close behind him. They had about five minutes to get to the shoot location, and so the less conversation they had along the way was better, just in case they didn't have anything to say when the cameras were actually rolling. That didn't stop her, though, but at least she kept to things that they couldn't actually say in front of the camera.

"Nice match, Tobias."

"Orton made me look good."

"You never could accept a compliment."

"Credit where credit's due. And most of the credit belongs to him."

"Last time I checked, it takes two to make a match look halfway decent, let alone as good as that one."

He had no answer to that, mainly since he hadn't actually seen the match, and therefore couldn't judge. No doubt she was just trying to boost his self esteem, something that he didn't exactly appreciate, all things considered. He was trying to earn his way, and that meant gaining respect and trust, rather than just having everyone smile and nod and tell him that he was great. There'd be a tape of the show available during the week, and that would be when he found out whether or not there was any truth to what Candice was saying. He couldn't get on camera anything less than confident, and they only had roughly two minutes left, which meant recovering, and quickly. At least she had realised that, and hadn't pushed the issue any further. Had he turned around, he was sure that she was smirking, running her fingers through her hair and smoothing down the skin tight leather of her ring attire. She had increased her pace, too, so that she was almost directly behind him as they reached the cameras. At that point, Candice brushed passed him, shooting him a quick smirk and a wink as she moved into the shadows on the other side of the bright lights.

"Okay guys, we're live in ten!" one of the figures behind the camera called out, desperation lining his voice.

"Gonna kiss me again, Candice?"

"I'll let you know."

"Three, two..."

Tobias had already started walking before the count started, and therefore was a single step out of the shot when they went live. He had one more step to the centre, and that was where he stopped, raising an eyebrow as Candice strutted on screen, a seductive smirk on her face as she played with his coat, smoothing out the creases as if it was their normal business.

"When are you cashing in, Shadow Master?"

It was certainly out of the blue, and Tobias couldn't help but laugh, glancing down at her hands before meeting her gaze again. He didn't answer, though, knowing that London and Kendrick needed and a line to enter on, and if they spent the entire promo talking about the briefcase, they'd never have the opportunity.

"I only ask because I'm getting a little bored of seeing the same people with the title around their waist, and if the past two weeks are anything to judge by, it seems you're ready to win."

"Non-title matches and title matches are a completely different story. Besides, last week's match didn't exactly end all that well, and I'm not going to challenge when someone else could jump in, get Cena disqualified, and blow my title shot."

"Someone like Orton? The guy you just beat?"

"He's down. Not out."

She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, relaxing back to a smirk. It had been the perfect cue, and it hadn't been scripted, which made it even better. Topping all that, though, was something Tobias hadn't realised until that exact moment. They'd stationed Paul and Brian behind him, and only now did he realise that he was supposed to 'sense' them there, alluding to the powers he had supposedly possessed when he'd originally debuted. Sensing the proximity of allies and enemies was one of the few that had survived to his championship reign, and now they were reviving it. No doubt the majority of the audience wouldn't recognise it, but that didn't mean that others would be as oblivious.

"That's where we step in, isn't it?"

"Yes, Paul, that would be where the two of you would... step in, as you put it."

Candice winked at him, once again, before letting her hands fall from his coat, unable to resist smoothing it down one last time before Brian and Paul moved to stand on either side of her, facing Tobias.

"Looks like that band's back together," Candice commented, glancing from one man to another, waiting for one of them to state the obvious, but none of them rose to the bait, though Paul and Brian did look away, unsure of what to do, or what to say.

"Not the band. The Shadow Ministry," Tobias said after a moment, correcting her. "And it's not the Ministry until we're all wearing gold."

"That won't be long now," Brian piped up, a cheeky grin on his face. "Now that Toby's back, we'll be champs in no time."

The red light above the camera went out half a second later, indicating that they were no longer rolling, and therefore they didn't have to come up with anything else to say. Paul and Brian didn't have time for words, needing to run to make it to their match, and Candice followed, since hers followed soon after, leaving Tobias to gather his stuff and catch a plane alone, as appeared to be the norm these days.


	7. Master Lock Challenge: Take One

_Reviews show love, folks_.

* * *

"Well... this is different."

He'd avoided Adam and Candice like the plague during the week, not wanting to chance another show where he was struggling thanks to not enough sleep and too much alcohol, but he hadn't been able to avoid absolutely everyone, which meant that Paul and Brian were in his room when his script was delivered, taking theirs with his own to save the delivery boy the trip. It seemed that they were going to have a rather slow night; no promo, and a three minute match with low carders to fill in the middle of the card. Tobias' night, on the other hand, was going to be a little more eventful.

"What page?"

He didn't answer, too engrossed in what he was reading to supply any information just then, leaving Paul to simply lean over and read the page number, passing on the information to Brian so he, too, could find out exactly what it was that Tobias was reading. The silence that followed was confirmation of his thoughts: the plan for the night wasn't exactly what one might call standard. Especially since, there was going to be a surprise at the end, as seemed to be the norm with him.

"You're going to break the Master Lock," Brian observed after a moment, still reading, apparently unaware that he'd even spoken in the first place.

"Technically, someone else is going to break it for me, but yes, I suppose that's how they'll call it."

"How long are they going to keep this streak of yours running? No, wait, let me guess, they'll have someone defeat you when you're holding the Intercontinental title, the WWE title, and the Tag Team titles, single-handedly."

Tobias slowly looked away from the page, slightly amazed that Paul had said all of that without the slightest trace of bitterness. Brian, too, had forgotten the page for a moment, but his expression was far from surprised. In fact, he almost looked convinced, and if they, who knew the WWE inside and out, thought that it was possible his career might spiral out of control, then who knew how far the writers might actually go? And then reality sunk in, thanks to the smirk erupting on Paul's face proving just how good of an actor the man was, when he wanted to be. Tobias' face darkened, but even he couldn't pull that off for too long.

"Don't screw with me again, Paul. And you know that the threat's real."

They could only laugh at him, though, reading the final few lines of the script before closing the books, rather impressed with what they'd just read. Usually, when someone debuted, they were either given a shot at a title at the earliest possible chance, or they made a serious run through the mid-card. When someone made a return, there were more options, but, again, they either made a title run, or they were pulled into a non-title feud, in the spotlight, but without the gold to show for their success. It was rare when the two combined, but that seemed to be exactly what was happening. He held the briefcase, which meant that he was in the title scene, but the storyline they had begun to construct around him was more than just that. Not the best they could have come up with, but much higher than the usual standard.

"When do you get the title, anyway?"

It took Tobias a moment to register what Paul had said, but even when he had, he hesitated another moment before answering, preferring to keep them both waiting, since, no doubt, Brian was itching for the answer as much as everyone else.

"You'd have to ask someone who is more informed. They're not exactly keen on letting me know for the moment."

"Don't they usually tell you the storyline when you sign up? So that you know what you're in for?" Brian asked, perplexed.

"When the storyline is actually set? Yeah, they do. In this case, they'd only written... I think Steph said they'd done eight weeks when they spoke to me, and they've had other storylines to write in the mean time, so even if they think they know where it's all going, they hadn't ironed everything out by Wrestlemania. That and the fact that no one knew if I'd be ready."

A dubious look passed between the pair of them, but whatever issues they had, they decided not to share, probably just letting Tobias believe what he wanted to at the moment, and, while he wasn't entirely fond of the idea of yes men, in this case he wasn't going to complain. The paranoia was bad enough as it was without anyone else coming up with ideas to support it. Eventually, something was going to happen that would erase all those doubts, but, until then, he'd just have to take it all week by week.

"Wait, when did they approach you?" Paul suddenly asked, dropping the script down only moments after picking it up again. Tobias was caught off guard, and so didn't answer immediately, instead simply staring at his questioner for a few moments before shaking himself out of his reverie and actually coming up with an answer.

"January. Why?"

"Oh," Brian began, smirk forming on his face as he locked eyes with Paul.

"Nothing," they finished together, lifting their scripts in perfect synchronisation and hiding behind them once more. There was no point in trying to get anything more out of them, so instead Tobias turned his attention back to the script, knowing that he'd be receiving a call later that day to inform him of exactly when he was going to be needed at the ring, and anything else they may want to throw in his direction. Who knew, maybe this would be the week he actually found out what the rest of the storyline entailed.

Or maybe not. The meeting was scheduled for midday on Saturday, but by the time John had arrived, it was closer to one, though since his involvement wasn't until the end of their appearance, it wasn't too much of an issue. Had he arrived on time, though, they all could have spent the time doing something a little more enjoyable than running through the same motions, again and again. At least it would all look seamless, though some could argue that perfection made it seem less real. Anyone who thought that what happened in and around the ring was real needed to have their conceptions shattered, and the sooner, the better. With Randy around, though, John's attitude appeared to have changed, and he didn't question every single second of his brief role, though he did get a little irritating when it came to specifics, asking for exact details until just about everyone wanted to slug him one. It wasn't a match, though, so there weren't that many mistakes that he could make, and therefore not such a high need for detail. Thankfully, they were released just after one, the choreographer wanting to get the hell out of there as much as anyone else. Chris disappeared in a second, most likely wanting to have a shower before he spent the night out on the town, though John was close behind him, leaving Tobias and Randy to leave the arena together, not saying a word to each other, until they reached the front door.

Orton had hired a car, as did most of the roster, since they weren't hermits, and actually went out at night, not to mention during the day. Since his transportation needs so far had simply been one or two trips to the arena and back, Tobias hadn't bothered, meaning that this should have been where he and the younger man parted company. He only made it three steps, though, when Orton's voice broke the silence.

"Shadow Master; where's your ride?"

He turned, slowly, to find that Randy was still lingering by the door, his expression trapped halfway between a smirk and a frown, though Tobias wasn't going to guess at the reason. Instead, he allowed himself a small smile before glancing around at the road.

"It'll be along shortly."

"Limo? Stretch Hummer?"

"Taxi."

"Would have thought London and Kendrick would have come to get you. Or did they think that you were going to teleport, like the rest of us?"

"I'm a little out of practice with the teleporting. Never needed it when I wasn't in the ring. As for Paul and Brian, I didn't think to ask."

Another moment of silence, though Tobias couldn't really blame the man for it. They'd never been friends; hell, they'd never actually been introduced, but that didn't mean that they hadn't run into each other, either in front of the camera or behind it, a few times in the past. Those times hadn't exactly encouraged them to get to know each other any better, but Randy could have let him walk off without saying a word. Perhaps he was showing respect - formality over sincerity - but Tobias wasn't going to invest too much effort into finding out.

"I'll give you a lift, if you want. I'm heading that way regardless."

"You're not going out?"

He'd inadvertently stumbled onto a soft spot if the look on Orton's face was anything to judge by, so when the man turned away without a word, Tobias followed, not wanting to snub the offer, and at the same time trying to satisfy his curiosity. It wasn't worth alienating someone just to find out what he'd missed, and Randy seemed like someone he actually might get along well with. Or, at least, he probably would have, if the man wasn't such a good friend of Cena. Then again, if he didn't spend that much time going out, then there must be a chance to catch him on his own.

It didn't take a genius to work out which car was Orton's, since it was the only BMW in the lot, and Tobias half expected for the other man to make a big song and dance about it, but, once again, Orton was defying expectation, remaining absolutely silent until they were on the road. The tension that had emerged from Tobias' question hadn't faded, but inside the enclosed space, it was suffocating. He felt trapped, and worse, he felt as if the tension was poisoning him; an overreaction, to say the least, but that didn't matter.

"I was suspended not long after you left. They said that I was injured – I can't remember the excuse that they used right now – but the truth was that I used all my strikes, and then a couple extra, and they offered me the suspension if I just shut up and took it. When I got back, they amended my contract, so that I wouldn't get another chance."

"You're not allowed one slip?"

"One slip is being twenty minutes late to a show, and everyone is allowed those kinds of things. My slips were turning up to shows while under the influence of alcohol. My slips were showing up ten minutes before the show started, and then completely fucking something up in the ring. I was disrespectful, to everyone, and I was giving the WWE a bad name. There's a fancy name for it, but I can't remember what it is. Anyway, they thought that the only solution left was tough love, with no chances."

"You haven't gone out since?"

"Not this close to a show. Wednesdays and Thursdays, sometimes, but not any other nights. They tested my breath for nearly six months, and the Wellness Policy made sure that I was drug free. Some people get second chances. I probably used four of my chances before they threw the book at me. I deserved all of it, and worse... I don't know why they let me back."

Another silence, though without so much tension. Randy didn't seem all that uncomfortable talking about it, which probably meant that he had retold this story a few times since his return to the WWE, but that didn't mean that Tobias felt any more comfortable. There were a few stories like this floating around, and Paul had mentioned a few during their training sessions, but it didn't seem right to know so much about someone, especially when that particular someone was a man Tobias hadn't been all that fond of. If it had helped to change him, though, into someone who could be respected and taken seriously, then it wasn't entirely surprising that Randy wanted to share it with other people.

"Maybe they let you back because they wanted to prove that they could fix the problem. They haven't given you any chances, and it's been, what, nearly a year? How many times have you even gotten close to toeing the line?"

Orton laughed, and missed the turn for the hotel in the process, but that didn't seem to bother him.

"You've got a point there, Shadow Master. Still, though, you know what I was like back then. Would you have given me another chance?"

"You were young. All you needed to do was grow up a little."

Another laugh, as they turned left, quickly followed by another, so that they were heading back towards the hotel, and, in Tobias' case, the gym housed within. With this detour, there was no chance that they would arrive close behind John and Chris, which may have actually been intentional, though that was really jumping to conclusions.

"I seem to remember being an ass to you back then."

"That was then."

"Before the match at Wrestlemania, you thought that I was going to be just as bad, didn't you? I saw it, when I looked at you. You thought that I was going to screw your shoulder up again."

There was no answer to that. Tobias hadn't known who to blame at the time, and had never watched his match again afterwards. It wouldn't have made a difference, since there was little chance that he would have been able to work out exactly when everything went wrong. Even if he did have all that information, there was a huge chance that it had all been an accident. The problem with that, though, was that he'd taken hundreds of hits during his career, most of which had occurred during a heavily weapon-based Hell In A Cell with the Undertaker, and no one had managed to do anything close to that kind of damage. Botches were common, and there had been dozens of close calls, but the even the doctors had struggled to explain away the injury away as a simple slip.

"I'm not going to lie. I didn't trust you during that match, but after last week... I trust you not to hurt me. Doesn't mean that I don't suspect you, or Adam, or John. One of you ruined my shoulder. You didn't like me, at the time, and we both know you wanted me out. John practically hated me for taking Melina from him, and Adam... well, he and John were close, so he might have been doing it as a favour. Whatever the reason, I am ninety-nine percent certain that it was intentional, and that means that someone wanted to ruin me, my career, and, at that moment, my life."

Orton remained silent throughout his little speech, but couldn't hold back the grin, actually laughing for a moment before managing to compose himself once again.

"You sound like a movie voice over. Now all you need is a family member who died in mysterious circumstances and you've got the whole package."

"All fiction has some base of reality. You know that better than most."

He was right, though, and Tobias knew it. The way the words came out were an accident, and one that anyone could have found themselves in without too much difficulty. Unfortunately, those who worked for the WWE, even for a short amount of time, found themselves rather more predisposed to sounding scripted than those in careers outside of politics and acting. He'd never really been forced to speak in a way that felt and sounded unnatural, but that didn't really help anything.

"You should tell the game designers and the script writers. I'm sure they'd love to include this search for the truth into everything."

"Considering that I've jumped straight back into the fight with yourself, Adam and John, I think they're trying to give me the chance without making a big song and dance of it."

"Or maybe they're giving the three suspects a chance to prove our innocence."

There were many things that Tobias could have said in return, but he held his tongue, not wanting to antagonise the man just yet, if at all. Despite the fact that he'd been told – on numerous occasions and by multiple people – to drop the idea of ever finding out what had happened, he couldn't let it slide, not if he was going to be in the ring with them. So far, though, he didn't really suspect Orton of much, but he'd changed since last year, and the cause of that change might have been a little more complicated than the WWE suspension. But it was entirely possible that he was still simply paranoid, rather than perceptive. Pointing the finger without anything other than a hunch would only make things harder for him, since he'd look like he was on a witch hunt. No one liked the idea of participating in something like that, and the entire roster would close ranks if they found out that he was trying to blame someone for his injury.

The following two days passed quickly, and, though he ran into some of his fellow Superstars at the hotel, very few words were exchanged. Adam and Candice tried a few times to talk him into going out with them, but Tobias needed to focus, and to stop letting opportunities get by him. He'd been back in the WWE for three weeks, now, and he'd spent the entire time living in a daze, but that had to stop, and now. If nothing else, he was going to find out who had hurt him. It didn't matter if he was shafted down to the mid card, or if he became someone's whipping boy in a week's time; he needed to know. And, more importantly, he needed to find a way to punish whoever it was. With only three suspects, his job was easier than most crimes, but it had been a year since the incident, so it wouldn't be so easy to bring up the past without someone cluing in. But, of course, that could be saved for later. Right now, his music was playing, and the crowd was waiting for him to compete in the Master Lock Challenge.

Orton was standing with him, at the bottom of the stairs, and, while he was all smiles and jokes, there was no substance to it. Obviously, the chat they'd had in the car had set back whatever progress they'd been making, but at least he was willing to pretend, to the point where he actually ran up the stairs after Tobias to hand him the briefcase he would have otherwise left behind. They locked eyes in the darkness, just for a moment, but the stage manager was rushing Tobias along, telling him to hurry up and get through the curtain, and out onto the stage. It meant turning away and following orders, but it took a moment for his mind to return to the job at hand. There'd been something in Orton's expression, in his eyes, that Tobias couldn't quite work out, but that needed to be forgotten, for the time being. Especially since Chris was waiting for him, in the ring, flexing and posing for the crowd.

The briefcase was placed, as he'd been told, at the base of the steel steps before he entered the ring, turning his back on the other man before he shrugged the coat from his shoulders, catching it at the last moment before slinging it over the ring ropes. Chris was bellowing at him, probably gesturing wildly, too, but Tobias took his time, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his arms and shoulders before he took a seat on the steel chair, not once glancing at the man who was going to lock him in a glorified half nelson in a few moments. He'd been told to keep his expression bored, and that wasn't difficult, even as he found himself in the hold, with the referee checking that everything was in order before officially beginning the challenge. In an instant, Tobias was hauled to his feet and out of the chair, struggling to keep the air in his lungs until he managed to find the ground again. Of course, even this part was scripted, otherwise Chris would have had one hell of a time trying to throw him around. The 'Masterpiece' was counting in his ear, keeping track of each twist as if he was counting the seconds, but Tobias knew better, and knew that, when the count reached twenty-three, Orton would suddenly appear through the ring ropes. The crowd was on their feet; chanting, cheering, everything that could be expected for this kind of event. At the count of twenty, though, that all changed, and that meant that Randy was sprinting down the ramp, confirmed by the fact that Chris was pulling him back to his right, so that Tobias was facing the on-coming assault. Perfectly on cue, Orton slid into the ring, running forward with his arm outstretched.

It was a good thing that they'd rehearsed this for so long, since it mean that all the timing was perfect, and Tobias ducking his head down didn't look scripted, and instead just seemed like a normal reaction. The hold broke as Chris took the shot intended for the man he had been forcing into submission, and Tobias rolled forwards, turning to face Orton in time to catch him with an uppercut. The man fell back against the ropes, but bounced off with what looked like a powerful forearm, catching Tobias and forcing him down to the mat. When he rolled back to his feet, Randy was waiting, but Chris had already risen behind him, and held his arms behind his back, giving Orton the chance to get in several free shots, the final being a knee to the stomach, once again forcing Tobias to his knees. They were laughing above him, and Chris reached down, grabbing a fistful of Tobias' hair, pulling him back so that Orton could kick him in the face, but that would be too easy. Tobias grabbed Chris' wrist and dragged him down, forcing Orton to stop short, waiting as Tobias got to his feet before jumping forward once again. Tobias caught him in the initial hold of the Embrace or the Requiem, but before he had an opportunity to do anything more, Chris had risen, driven a fist into his spine. Together, they delivered a Double Suplex, followed by a further beat down, one that he wasn't going to rise from. Fists and feet rained down on him, until the crowd roared once again, meaning that Cena was making his appearance. He would run down the ramp, grab the briefcase, then climb into the ring. Orton would turn to face him, prepared for an attack, but the briefcase wouldn't come anywhere near him, and instead would crash into Tobias' head. The sudden flair of pain confirmed that it was actually happening, and he counted the shots that followed before he fell to the mat, the briefcase dropped by his head. John would then shake hands with Orton, and they'd walk off together, leaving Chris in the ring, posing and taunting, every so often picking up the briefcase and acting as if he was about to hit Tobias again before dropping it once more and going back to simply laughing. It was just to pass time, and make the sell look believable, so that Tobias could get to his feet after the third game with the briefcase, smirking as Chris turned to face him. There was barely enough time for him to look shocked before he was caught in the Shadow's Embrace and passing out.

He'd been told to keep the hold locked in for twice as long as was necessary, but when Chris actually did appear to be struggling with his breathing, Tobias released him, pulling him to his feet for a Requiem. It was the backup plan they'd given him, just in case there was some sort of problem, and no doubt Chris would be rather thankful. He grabbed the briefcase, and his coat, rotating his shoulder for effect as he left the ring. There was the slightest of pains inside the joint, but that was more to do with the way he'd been manhandled by Chris, and would fade, hopefully, by the following day. But the fans were cheering, and the writers were giving him back the power he'd had before he had been let go. And that power meant that he would be given a title, at some point in the future.


End file.
